rles  Judson  Crane 


.-lone!  U.  S.  Army  (Retired) 


George  Washington  Flowers 
Memorial  Collection 

DUKE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

ESTABLISHED  BY  THE 
FAMILY  OF 

COLONEL  FLOWERS 


The  Experiences  of  a 

a 

Colonel  of  Infantry 


By 

Charles  Judson  Crane 

Colonel  U.  S.  Army  (Retired) 


at 


Unidterbocher  Pres# 
New  York 
1923 


7 


a 


1 i 


Fob  My  Wife 
LOU 


A 


PREFACE 


This  book  has  been  written  for  the  special  purpose 
of  putting  within  easy  reach  of  my  own  family  and 
’ best  friends  a knowledge  of  my  experiences,  and  of 
my  career  as  an  officer  of  the  Army.  I have  accom- 
plished nothing  great,  or  even  deserving  of  special 
mention,  nevertheless,  a description  of  what  I have 
taken  part  in  may  be  profitable  and  interesting  reading 
to  those  interested  in  the  writer. 


C.  J.  c. 


San  Antonio,  Texas. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/experiencesofcol01cran 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I 

Of  Scotch-English-Irish  ancestry.  Born  at  Hernando,  De 
Soto  County,  Mississippi.  Childhood  at  Mt.  Lebanon, 
Louisiana,  and  Independence,  Texas.  Cowboy  with 
cattle  to  Kansas  in  1871.  ..... 

CHAPTER  II 

Cowboy  experiences  ended,  assists  in  teaching  small  boys 
at  Baylor  University,  Independence,  Texas.  Ap- 
pointed to  the  U.  S.  Military  Academy  in  1872. 
Graduated  in  1877  and  assigned  to  the  24th  Infantry, 
(Company  “B”).  Reported  for  duty  at  Fort  Clark, 
Texas,  in  December  1877.  ..... 

CHAPTER  III 

Service  at  Fort  Duncan,  Texas.  Mike  Wippf’s  saloon  at 
Eagle  Pass.  On  hunt  with  Col.  Shafter.  Promoted  in 
1879  and  sent  to  Fort  Ringgold,  Tex. 

CHAPTER  IV 

Commanding  Company.  Change  of  station,  marching. 
Pena  Colorado  and  Fort  Davis,  Texas.  Then  to  Forts 
Sill  and  Elliott.  ....... 


CHAPTER  V 

Commandant  of  Cadets  at  the  A.  &.  M.  College  of  Texas. 
At  Fort  Sill,  I.  T.  again.  Horace  P.  Jones,  Indian 
interpreter.  Indians.  Hunting.  .... 
vii 


PAGE 


3 


39 


70 


96 


130 


CONTENTS 


viii 


CHAPTER  VI 

Two  Trips  to  Greer  County.  Regiment  ordered  to  New 
Mexico  and  Arizona.  Service  with  cavalry.  San 
Carlos  Indian  Agency,  in  1888.  .... 

CHAPTER  VII 

To  West  Point,  N.  Y.  as  instructor,  August,  1888.  Married 
in  December,  1889,  and  relieved  in  July,  1890.  Regi- 
mental Adjutant  at  Fort  Bayard,  New  Mexico.  Pro- 
moted to  Captain  1892.  Company  (“F”).  Strike  duty, 
Practice  march  and  other  duties  at  Fort  Bayard. 
Regiment  ordered  to  Fort  Douglas,  Utah . 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Sent  with  company  ahead  of  regiment.  Sentiment  of  the 
people  at  Salt  Lake  City.  On  hunts  and  prac- 
tice march.  Gentiles  and  Mormons.  Spanish  War, 
changed  sentiment.  ...... 


CHAPTER  IX 

By  rail  to  Chickamauga,  Georgia.  “Remember  the 
Maine!”  In  camp  at  Chickamauga  Park.  Regi- 
ment ordered  to  Tampa,  Florida.  The  regular  soldier. 
Appointed  Colonel  9th  U.  S.  Volunteer  Infantry.  The 
colored  soldier.  The  24th  Infantry.  .... 

CHAPTER  X 

Raising  a regiment  of  colored  “immunes”  at  New  Orleans, 
La.  Early  difficulties.  Muster  in.  Officers.  Be- 
havior of  the  enlisted  men.  Off  to  Santiago,  Cuba. 

CHAPTER  XI 

Arrival  at  Santiago.  Generals  Shafter,  Lawton  and  Wood. 
Night  march  to  San  Juan  Hill.  Sickness  in  camp. 
San  Luis.  Troncon.  Regiment  ordered  to  the 
United  States.  ....... 


PAGE 

159 


179 


236 


249 


257 


CONTENTS 


IX 


CHAPTER  XII 

PAGE 

Quick  loading  and  embarkation.  Arrival  at  New  York 
and  at  Camp  Meade,  Pa.  Duties  at  Camp  Meade. 

Men  allowed  to  purchase  their  old  style  Springfield 
rifles.  Lieut.  Beckam.  On  leave.  Joins  regiment 
at  Presidio,  San  Francisco,  Cal.  ....  295 

CHAPTER  XIII 

Sails  for  Manila.  Passengers  and  duties  aboard.  Hono- 
lulu. Manila.  Nipa  Barracks.  Pump  Station. 
Appointed  Lieutenant  Colonel  38th  Volunteers. 
Inspector  General  of  General  Fred  Grant’s  brigade. 
Skirmishes  at  and  near  Bacoor  and  Imus.  . . 309 

CHAPTER  XIV 

Joins  volunteer  regiment  on  the  Luneta,  Manila.  South- 
ern hike.  Talisay,  Tanuan  and  Lipa.  Cuenca.  Ex- 
amining Board  at  Manila.  Trip  to  Tayabas.  38th 
Volunteers  ordered  to  Ilo  Ilo,  Panay.  . . . 326 

CHAPTER  XV 

General  R.  P.  Hughes.  Pacification  of  Panay.  Military 
Commission  work.  Promoted  to  Major  in  the  regular 
service.  Adjutant  General,  Department  of  Panay. 

On  sick  leave.  .......  363 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Duty  at  Cebu.  Ordered  home.  Department  of  California. 
Reports  from  leave  at  Governor’s  Island,  N.  Y. 
Promoted  to  Lieutenant  Colonel  of  regulars  and 
sent  to  command  in  Porto  Rico.  Labor  strike.  Duke 
D’Abruzzi.  Roosevelt’s  inauguration  as  President. 

The  Governor  of  Porto  Rico.  .....  401 

CHAPTER  XVII 

Military  Secretary,  Northern  Division.  At  St.  Louis, 
Chicago  and  San  Antonio.  Long  sick  leave.  Pro- 


X 


CONTENTS 


moted  to  Colonel  and  assigned  to  the  9th  Infantry. 
Duty  at  Fort  San  Houston,  Texas.  Trips  to  Austin, 
Dallas  and  El  Paso.  Regiment  ordered  to  the 
Philippines.  ........ 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Trip  to  Cebu.  Duties  there.  Native  police.  Test  rides. 
Maneuvers  on  the  island  of  Guimaras.  Maneuvers 
near  Cebu.  Trip  to  Japan.  Chief  of  Police  at  Cebu. 
Homeward  bound.  ...... 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Fort  Thomas,  Ky.  Visit  to  relatives.  In  Washington, 
D.  C.  On  duty  at  Camp  Perry,  Ohio.  Troubles  on 
the  Mexican  border.  Sent  with  regiment  to  Laredo, 
Texas.  Duties  on  the  border.  Retired  for  age. 

CHAPTER  XX 

We  enter  the  “Great  World  War.”  On  active  duty  again, 
at  recruit  camp  and  at  colleges.  On  close  of  hostilities 
returns  to  retired  status.  Reflections  regarding  the 
military  service  and  our  people.  .... 


PACK 


432 


463 


508 


544 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

In  1875  52 

In  1913 458 

In  the  Yabd  of  the  Alamo — Spring  of  1920  . . 566 


xi 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


1 


\ 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


CHAPTER  I 

My  parents  were  William  Carey  Crane  and 
Catherine  Jane  Shepherd.  Our  ancestor  Jasper 
Crane  was  the  first  Crane  in  the  New  World. 
Apparently,  he  did  not  delay  long  in  Massachusetts, 
for  he  was  one  of  the  first  settlers  of  the  town  of  New 
Haven,  Connecticut,  in  or  about  1637.  About  thirty 
year  later  he  and  some  of  his  children  were  among  the 
first  settlers  of  the  present  city  of  Newark,  New  Jersey. 
There  are  many  Cranes  in  and  near  New  Haven,  and 
some  years  ago  the  city  directory  of  Newark  showed  as 
many  Cranes  as  members  of  any  other  family,  except- 
ing of  course  our  friends  the  Smiths. 

The  Cranes  were  of  English  blood.  My  ancestress 
Mary  Treat,  the  wife  of  Jasper’s  son  John,  was  the 
daughter  of  the  Charter  Oak  Governor  of  Connecticut, 
and  John  Campbell,  the  father  of  another  ancestress, 
was  of  the  blood  of  the  Lords  of  Argyle  in  Scotland. 

My  mother’s  father,  James  Shepherd,  came  from 
Scotland  when  very  young.  He  married  a daughter  of 
Major  James  Moore,  of  “Mad”  Anthony  Wayne’s 
regiment  of  the  Pennsylvania  Line,  in  the  Revolution. 
Major  Moore’s  father  came  from  the  northern  part  of 
Ireland;  the  Major  married  a daughter  of  Sharp 
Delany,  of  Philadelphia,  lived  a few  years  in  Lancaster, 


3 


4 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Pa.,  and  then  moved  to  Northumberland  County, 
Virginia. 

My  grandfather,  William  Crane,  moved  when  a 
young  man  from  Newark  to  Richmond,  Va.,  where  my 
father  was  born  in  1816.  William  Crane  afterwards 
moved  to  Baltimore,  Md.,  where  he  died  in  1867.  He 
was  an  abolitionist,  and  a strong  character,  generally, 
besides  being  successful  in  business.  He  was  a great 
believer  in  missionary  work,  and  showed  it  by  naming 
several  of  his  children  after  noted  Baptist  missionaries. 

My  father  completed  his  excellent  education  by 
attending  theological  schools  which  prepared  him  for 
the  pulpit.  Although  brought  up  as  a Whig  he  voted 
once  for  Andrew  Jackson.  Of  course  he  voted  for 
Henry  Clay  whenever  he  could,  barring,  perhaps,  that 
time  when  he  could  not  help  voting  for  “Old  Hickory.” 
On  one  occasion  he  voted  the  “Know Nothing”  ticket, 
which,  I believe,  meant  “America  for  the  Americans,” 
which  only  showed  my  father’s  genuine  patriotism. 
In  1860  he  voted  for  the  Whig  candidates  Bell  and 
Everett,  and  my  young  throat  outdid  itself  in  many 
times  shouting  “Hurrah  for  Bell  and  Everett.”  In 
those  days  we  were  noisy  at  elections.  During  the 
Civil  War  my  father  was  a strong  supporter  of 
the  Confederacy,  and  my  brother  Will  was  a pri- 
vate in  Dave  Terry’s  regiment  of  mounted  Texas 
infantry. 

After  the  Civil  War  my  father  was  a consistent 
Democrat,  believing  that  no  other  course  was  proper 
for  a Southern  gentleman. 

He  was,  all  his  life  after  graduating  from  school,  a 
school  teacher  and  a Baptist  preacher,  being  usually 
the  head  of  the  boys?  school,  also  of  the  Baptist  Church, 
wherever  he  lived.  He  was  married  three  times,  my 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


5 


mother  being  his  third  wife,  and  there  having  been  no 
children  by  the  other  wives. 

My  mother  gave  this  world  nine  children,  in  the 
following  order:  William  Carey,  Annie  Dickinson, 

Catherine  , Charles  Judson,  Gordon  Shepherd, 

Balfour  Dorset,  James  Thomas,  Royston  Campbell 
and  Harriet  Burns. 

I was  born  at  Hernando,  De  Soto  County,  Miss.,  on 
April  30,  1852,  not  far  from  Memphis.  Several  years 
afterwards  my  parents  moved  to  Center  Hill,  Miss., 
only  a short  distance  from  the  Tennessee  line,  where 
I well  remember  catching  small  birds  in  traps  and 
following  larger  boys  hunting  and  fishing.  A big  boy 
named  Bob  Paine  allowed  me  to  follow  him  about,  and 
gave  me  the  prettiest  feathers  from  the  birds  that 
he  killed,  and  I carried  them  home  with  me  and  kept 
them  for  years. 

In  the  winter  of  1859-60  my  parents  moved  to  Mt. 
Lebanon,  La.,  going  by  rail  to  New  Orleans  and  thence 
by  boat  up  the  Mississippi  and  Red  Rivers.  In  New 
Orleans  we  stopped  with  my  mother’s  good  brother 
Charles  J.  Shepherd,  for  whom  and  for  my  father’s 
brother  Judson  I was  named.  No  kinder,  better  man 
than  my  uncle  Charles  ever  came  under  my 
observation. 

In  going  up  Red  River  our  boat,  the  side  wheeler 
“Morning  Light”  ran  a race  with  another  river  boat,  a 
stern  wheeler,  and  our  boat  won  the  race,  to  the  great 
satisfaction  of  all  the  passengers.  No  one  likes  to  be 
beaten,  in  any  kind  of  a race. 

At  Mt.  Lebanon  my  father  was  President  of  Mt. 
Lebanon  University,  the  preparatory  branch  of  which 
I attended.  The  school  buildings  were  located 
adjoining  a fine  forest  of  oak,  hickory,  etc.,  and  under 


6 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


some  of  the  great  oaks  left  standing  in  the  school 
enclosure  I played  all  sorts  of  games,  like  other  boys. 

In  those  days  negroes  were  slaves,  were  bought  and 
sold,  and  could  not  leave  their  master’s  premises 
without  his  permission.  Sometimes  a negro  would 
run  away  and  become  what  was  called  a “bad  nigger.” 
At  nights  the  roads  were  sometimes  patrolled  by  white 
men,  and  negroes  caught  out  without  written  per- 
mission would  be  whipped.  One  day  I saw  one 
whipped,  just  outside  of  the  college  fence  adjoining 
the  forest.  A thick  leather  strap  was  used,  having 
some  small  holes  in  the  end  farthest  from  the  handle. 

The  principal  outdoor  amusements  were  hunting 
and  fishing.  Fish  fries  and  barbecues  were  frequent, 
especially  about  July.  On  July  4th  the  inevitable 
barbecue  offered  the  rising  young  politician  an 
opportunity  to  make  his  debut,  or  to  improve  on 
previous  efforts.  Eating  of  the  best  of  fruits,  meats 
and  vegetables,  and  listening  to  4th  of  July  orations; 
these  were  the  old  time  methods  of  spending  our 
Independence  Day  in  the  Old  South.  No  fireworks 
were  on  hand  then;  but  they  were  used  lavishly  on  the 
night  before  Christmas  and  next  morning.  Politics 
were,  of  course,  of  great  interest  to  everybody, 
especially  during  our  first  winter  at  Mt.  Lebanon. 
There,  the  candidates  who  received  the  greatest 
support  were  Breckenridge  and  Lane,  Southern 
Democrats,  with  Bell  and  Everett  following  next. 
Douglas,  the  Northern  Democrat,  received  only  a few 
votes,  and  Lincoln  and  Hamlin  received  practically 
none. 

The  news  of  the  first  Battle  of  Bull  Run,  or  Ma- 
nassas, as  we  called  it  in  the  South,  was  brought  one 
afternoon  by  the  stage  driver.  I saw  the  stage  coming, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


7 


horses  at  a gallop  and  the  driver  waving  his  arms  and 
shouting  wildly  something  like  “ We  licked  ’em.  We 
whipped  ’em  good.”  Some  people  there  imagined 
that  the  war  would  end  then,  but  the  more  intelligent 
knew  better.  About  two  years  later,  while  playing 
marbles  under  a big  oak  tree  in  the  college  grounds 
late  one  afternoon,  I distinctly  heard  the  big  guns  at 
Vicksburg.  I also  remember  the  diminishing  value  of 
Confederate  money. 

Sometime  in  1862  an  old  man  named  Reesenover 
died  near  Mt.  Lebanon.  He  had  a farm  about  three 
miles  from  town,  and  his  horses,  cattle,  and  even  his 
slaves  were  sold  at  auction  in  my  presence.  I went 
out  to  his  place  to  see  the  sale.  A field  hand,  a very 
black  man  of  small  size  and  middle  age  was  sold  to  the 
highest  bidder  for  700  dollars.  Another  negro,  a big, 
strong,  fine  looking  mulatto,  brought  two  thousand 
dollars.  He  was  the  family  carriage  driver. 

Near  that  farm  a runaway  negro  named  Riall  had 
killed  an  old  white  man,  so  I did  not  often  go  to  that 
farm,  and  bigger  boys  than  I did  not  like  that  road. 

The  following  words  of  a little  song  which  I once 
heard  sung  by  half  a dozen  negroes  while  pulling  fodder 
will  throw  some  light  on  the  question  “Why  did  they 
run  away?” 

“I  do  hate  a mean  overseer; 

I do  hate  a mean  overseer; 

I do  hate  a mean  overseer; 

For  I do  hate  to  run  away. 

“I  do  hate  a nigger  driver; 

I do  hate  a nigger  driver; 

I do  hate  a nigger  driver; 

For  I do  hate  to  run  away.” 


8 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


The  reason  given  in  that  little  song  must  have 
caused  many  to  run  away.  I heard  that  song  only 
once. 

As  regards  my  progress  at  school.  I knew  before 
we  left  Mt.  Lebanon  that  I was  not  fond  of  mathe- 
matics, but  that  I was  very  fond  of  geography  and 
history. 

In  the  summer  of  1863  my  brother  Gordon  and  I 
were  sent  to  the  farms  of  our  good  Uncle  Charles 
Shepherd,  near  Keechi,  La.,  going  there  with  his  mule 
wagons  and  under  the  care  of  his  slave  teamsters.  We 
slept  on  the  ground  at  night  and  ate  exactly  what  the 
teamsters  did.  A few  weeks  later  my  father  came  on 
with  the  rest  of  the  family,  and  all  of  us  lived  on  one  of 
my  uncle’s  farms. 

In  September  of  the  same  year  my  father,  my  sister 
Annie,  my  brother  Gordon  and  I went  by  buggy  and 
wagon  to  Independence,  Texas.  During  the  trip  we 
passed  Shreveport,  La.,  where  we  saw  in  the  Red 
River  an  unfinished  gunboat  named  “Stonewall 
Jackson,”  and  painted  black.  I believe  that  gunboat 
of  the  Confederacy  was  never  used,  never  completed. 
Twelve  miles  from  Independence,  at  Washington  on 
the  Brazos,  we  saw  the  upper  parts  of  an  old  river 
steamboat  which  had,  during  high  water  years  before, 
attempted  the  navigation  of  the  Brazos  River.  The 
receding  of  rain  water  in  the  river  had  left  the  boat 
stuck  in  the  mud,  and  there  it  remained.  Arriving  at 
Independence  my  father  left  us  and  returned  to 
Louisiana  for  the  balance  of  the  family. 

For  a few  days  we  stayed  at  the  home  of  Dr.  Graves, 
and  then  Gordon  and  I were  sent  to  live  with  the 
family  of  Major  Albert  Haynes  till  my  father’s  return, 
meanwhile  going  to  school. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


9 


For  quite  a while  it  bothered  me  to  hear  the  Texas 
boys  boasting  about  Generals  Hood,  Tom  Green  and 
Scurry,  when  for  several  years  I had  been  hearing 
chiefly  of  Generals  Beauregard,  Mouton  and  Polignac. 
My  mind  began  right  then  to  be  broadened  with  the 
knowledge  that  our  country  is  big,  and  that  each 
state  has  many  great  citizens  and  soldiers. 

My  father  became  President  of  Baylor  University,  a 
Baptist  school  which  was  located  at  Independence 
until  the  death  of  my  father  in  1885,  when  it  was 
moved  to  Waco,  Texas,  a larger  town,  where  the 
school  now  prospers  and  continues  to  grow. 

My  brother  Will  graduated  at  Baylor  University  in 
1864  and  then  joined  Colonel  Dave  Terry’s  regiment 
of  mounted  infantry.  This  was  the  same  Terry  who 
had  several  years  before  killed  in  a duel  Senator 
Broderick  of  California,  and  who  many  years  after- 
wards was  killed  by  the  bodyguard  of  U.  S.  Justice 
Field  at  some  station  along  the  Southern  Pacific 
Railroad.  A brother  of  my  brother’s  colonel  was 
the  fine  soldier  Frank  Terry,  of  the  Terry  Rangers. 

Dave  Terry’s  regiment  marched  back  and  forth 
across  the  state  of  Texas  several  times,  and  did  much 
hunting  for  deserters,  and  spent  months  guarding 
prisoners,  but  saw  no  actual  fighting  after  my  brother 
joined.  Before  the  war  ended  the  regiment  was  dis- 
mounted, and  the  animals,  being  the  private  property 
of  the  men,  were  returned  to  their  owners’  homes, 
one  soldier  bringing  back  five  or  six  horses.  My 
brother’s  horse,  a beautiful,  light  colored  roan  gelding, 
had  little  hair  left  in  his  tail;  most  of  it  had  been 
pulled  out  by  other  horses  being  tied  to  the  tail.  The 
hair  soon  grew  out  again. 

Washington  County  was  in  those  days  the  banner 


10 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


farming  county  in  the  state  of  Texas,  being  com- 
paratively thickly  settled,  and  very  prosperous.  For 
those  good  reasons  Confederate  troops  were  sent  there 
to  recuperate  after  hard  service.  General  John  G. 
Walker’s  Division  was  camped  many  weeks  out  on  Big 
Rocky  Creek,  and  was  composed  of  the  brigades  once 
commanded  by  Scurry,  Randall  and  Waul. 

In  Mt.  Lebanon,  early  in  the  War,  I witnessed  the 
presentation  of  a banner  to  what  was  then  Waul’s 
Legion  by  the  ladies  of  the  little  town.  The  flag  was 
accepted  for  the  Legion  by  a young  soldier  named 
Davidson,  after  the  War  a student  of  Baylor  Univer- 
sity’s law  course. 

The  small  place  Independence  was  then  noted 
chiefly  for  its  schools  for  both  sexes,  Baylor  Univer- 
sity then  including  Baylor  Female  College,  and  the 
college  presidents  being  my  father  and  Horace  Clark, 
respectively. 

Many  fine  families  lived  there,  the  best  known 
being  the  Houstons,  Bryans,  Clays,  Haynes,  Sewards, 
Robertsons,  etc.  Sam  Houston,  who  had  filled,  in 
Tennessee  and  Texas,  the  highest  offices  a state  can 
give  one  of  her  citizens,  had  died  in  July,  1863,  at 
Huntsville,  Texas,  and  his  family,  excepting  young 
Sam,  were  all  living  at  Independence  when  we  arrived 
there.  Young  Sam,  in  spite  of  his  father’s  strong 
Union  sentiments  stayed  with  his  state,  and  was  a 
gallant  soldier  of  the  Confederacy,  attaining  the 
grade  of  lieutenant  of  artillery. 

Major  Moses  Austin  Bryan  was  a nephew  of 
Stephen  F.  Austin,  and  had  taken  part  in  the  Battle 
of  San  Jacinto,  and  never  wearied  of  telling  how  he 
interpreted  that  day  for  Sam  Houston  and  Santa  Ana. 
Although  some  histories  say  that  Almonte  spoke  good 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


11 


English,  my  recollection  is  that  Major  Bryan  claimed 
that  he  interpreted  also  for  Almonte  and  Houston. 
Almonte  asked  Houston  how  and  why  it  was  that  he 
delayed  making  the  attack  on  Santa  Ana’s  army  until 
after  General  Cos  had  joined  Santa  Ana  with  a rein- 
forcement of  500  men,  he  (Houston)  knowing  before- 
hand that  Cos  was  coming.  Sam  Houston  was  sitting 
at  the  foot  of  a big  tree,  nursing  his  fresh  wound  which 
was  a very  painful  one.  His  only  reply,  accompanied 
by  an  impatient  gesture  of  the  hands,  was,  “Why  take 
two  bites  at  a cherry?” 

The  end  of  the  Civil  War  was,  in  Texas,  called 
“The  Break-up,”  and  it  may  possibly  be  still  so 
designated  in  some  parts  of  the  state.  When  the 
“break-up”  came  some  Confederate  troops  were  in 
camp  on  Big  Rocky  Creek,  four  miles  from  Independ- 
ence, and  other  Texas  soldiers  soon  came  marching 
home,  there  being  no  regular  surrender  of  individual 
organizations  and  their  arms  and  equipments.  The 
men  came  marching  back  with  whatever  government 
property  they  desired  to  retain  possession  of. 

At  Washington  and  Navasota  the  Confederate 
military  authorities  had  collected  supplies  of  powder  in 
kegs,  and  lead  in  heavy  bars,  called  “pigs,”  also  some 
sabres,  rifles,  etc.  These  stores  were  left  without 
guard,  and  soon  were  scattered  throughout  the  country, 
the  people  for  many  miles  around  going  in  wagons  and 
taking  what  powder  and  lead  they  wanted.  In  this 
manner,  by  lending  our  father’s  wagon  and  horses, 
I got  possession  of  50  or  60  pounds  of  lead  and  of 
powder. 

A careless  handling  of  a match  about  the  premises  of 
the  Navasota  warehouse  resulted  in  an  explosion  which 
ruined  the  greater  part  of  the  contents,  and  killed  the 


12 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


careless  boy,  a young  soldier  named  George  Balkam, 
and  wounded  many  other  people.  The  powder  and 
lead  which  I got  then  served  me  for  several  years’ 
hunting.  In  those  days  I had  very  little  money,  and 
I made  my  own  shot  from  that  “pig”  lead. 

The  ex- Confederates  returned  home  and  went  to 
work,  at  first  very  awkwardly,  but  they  worked  in 
earnest,  and  the  country  now  shows  the  good  results. 
I remember  only  one  occasion  when  any  number  of 
them  appeared  in  their  old  uniforms,  and  with  their 
old  Enfield  rifles  which  resembled  very  much  the 
Springfield  rifles  of  that  date.  The  Enfield  rifle  was  an 
English  weapon.  When  I saw  the  former  soldiers 
armed  and  clothed  as  they  had  been  some  months 
previous,  they  were  quietly  sitting  around  and 
attending  to  the  lynching  of  a young  negro.  It  was 
for  the  same  old  cause,  and  nothing  was  ever  done 
about  it.  I saw  the  hanging,  and  so  did  some  other 
boys,  for  we  found  it  easy  running  a mile  to  the  live 
oak  grove  on  the  banks  of  the  small  creek  just  west  of 
John  Seward’s  residence. 

In  slavery  days  a non-slave  owner,  like  my  father, 
obtained  the  necessary  labor  by  hiring  it  from  those 
who  did  own  slaves.  If  the  negro  man  misbehaved  too 
much,  as  I remember  happening  once,  my  father 
would  send  the  man  to  his  owner  to  be  whipped.  I 
took  the  negro  to  his  master  to  be  whipped,  and  I saw 
the  punishment  inflicted,  and  then  I took  the  man 
back  to  our  house.  He  made  no  protest  whatever. 

When  the  news  of  the  “ Break-up  ” became  so  per- 
sistent that  no  one  could  doubt  any  longer  that  our 
idolized  Lee  had  really  surrendered,  and  had  given  up 
the  fight,  the  bottom  seemed  to  fall  out  of  everything, 
and  things  collapsed  generally,  or,  “broke  up.” 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


13 


We  had  at  that  time,  hired  from  their  former 
owners,  two  negro  women  and  the  husband  of  one  of 
them.  I remember  well  being  present  when  my  father 
sent  for  them  and  informed  them  that  they  were  all 
free,  and  could  after  that  work  where  they  pleased, 
and  retain  the  fruits  of  their  own  labor.  One  of  the 
women,  named  Ann,  looked  frightened  and  begged  to 
be  allowed  to  stay  on  and  continue  working  for  us. 
She  worked  for  my  father’s  family  the  greater  part  of 
the  next  30  years,  being  then  known  as  Ann  Warren. 

In  1867  the  yellow  fever  visited  that  little  town. 
Nineteen  people  took  the  disease,  and  about  half  that 
number  died  of  it.  Among  those  who  died  was  Mrs. 
Sam  Houston,  the  widow  of  Texas’  greatest  citizen. 
Our  family,  like  many  others,  ran  away  from  home 
and  took  refuge  in  the  woods  on  some  creek,  or  at  some 
spring.  The  Humphreys  family  camped  with  us  at  a 
sulphur  spring  for  six  or  eight  weeks.  From  that 
camp  the  boys  of  our  families  hunted  and  fished  along 
the  Yegua  River. 

About  the  same  time  the  Kansas  grasshopper  came 
along  in  myriads,  and  ate  up  everything  that  was 
green  in  the  gardens,  and  in  the  fall  they  laid  their 
eggs  in  shallow  holes  in  the  ground,  and  then  dis- 
appeared. The  people  were  surely  downhearted  then, 
especially  when  in  the  following  spring  they  saw  the 
new  crop  of  grasshoppers  hatch  out,  too  young  and  too 
small  to  fly,  but  with  enough  energy  to  hop  about  all 
day  long. 

W ar , disease  and  pestilence ! What  else  remai ned  in 
store  for  Texas?  Luckily,  heavy  spring  rains  removed 
the  grasshopper  menace,  and  the  crops  of  1868  were 
better  than  was  anticipated. 

During  those  years  I was  going  to  school  on  week 


14 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


days,  and  I went  hunting  and  fishing  whenever  I had 
the  opportunity.  Frequently,  however,  I had  to  work 
Saturdays  in  the  garden,  or  in  the  small  field  adjoining 
our  house.  I was  quite  proficient  with  the  ax,  and  I 
cut  and  hauled  many  loads  of  wood,  and  prepared  it 
for  use  as  fuel.  I remember  with  pleasure  and  pride 
my  mother’s  salutation  on  many  occasions,  when  I 
would  appear  after  hours  of  work  or  pleasure  seeking, 
loaded  down  with  fire  wood  for  her  room.  She  would 
say,  “Just  in  time,  my  boy.”  I was  in  time  then,  and 
rarely  have  I been  behind  time,  or  too  late. 

My  sister  Annie  was  married  when  I was  between 
16  and  17  years  old.  She  married  a gentleman  from 
Galveston.  The  ceremony  was  performed  by  my 
father,  in  his  residence,  the  old  “Round  House”  of 
Baylor  University  at  Independence.  A few  minutes 
after  the  ceremony  the  bridegroom  found  me  standing 
alone  in  my  mother’s  room.  I knew  him  very  slightly, 
and  I wasn’t  feeling  good  at  losing  my  sister.  How- 
ever, he  tried  to  be  pleasant,  but  he  didn’t  start  off 
right.  He  asked,  “Well,  Charlie,  how  do  you  like 
your  new  brother?”  My  reply  was;  “Well  now,  I 
don’t  know  about  that.  I’ll  have  to  wait  and  see  how 
you  treat  my  sister.”  I was  wiser  than  I thought. 

I was  not  the  only  one  of  my  family  given  to  plain 
and  truthful  speech,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  following, 
which  occurred  not  long  after  my  sister’s  marriage. 

Two  little  boys  had  been  coming  a little  too  often 
to  play  around  the  old  “Round  House,”  and  my 
brother  Tom  remarked  that  he  would  fix  it,  and  stop 
their  coming  so  often.  A day  or  two  later  Tom 
quietly  said,  “I  gave  those  boys  a hint.  They  won't 
be  around  here  so  much,  now.”  I knew  my  brother’s 
way  of  doing  things,  so  I asked  him  to  tell  me  exactly 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


15 


what  he  had  told  the  boys.  I had  an  idea  that  he  had 
spoken  straight  to  the  point,  and  I was  not  mistaken. 
Tom  had  said,  “See  here!  We  are  getting  mighty 
tired  of  you  boys  up  at  the  ‘Round  House,’  and  we 
want  you  to  stay  away  from  there.”  After  reading 
those  two  stories  it  is  merely  evident  that  my  brother 
Tom  was  my  full  brother;  the  resemblance  of  his 
disposition  to  my  own  proved  it. 

When  I was  about  17  my  friend  Edgar  Robbins 
wanted  to  go  to  Evergreen,  then  contained  within  the 
limits  of  Washington  County,  and  about  45  miles 
distant.  He  was  going  to  live  there,  and  wanted  me 
to  give  him  a ride  horseback.  So  I did,  he  riding 
one  of  my  father’s  horses  and  I riding  the  other.  The 
next  day  I made  the  return  trip  alone,  leading  the 
extra  horse. 

At  that  time  Evergreen  was  inhabited  by  Bill 
Longly  and  John  Wilson.  The  first  had  killed  30  men, 
and  the  other  only  25,  but  that  was  enough  to  make 
me  feel  queer  when  going  into  their  town,  so  I wore 
my  old  Remington  revolver,  with  which  I had  killed 
several  small  animals.  I am  glad  I did  not  see  either 
of  the  desperados,  but  I did  have  an  opportunity  to 
use  that  old  pistol. 

Where  we  stayed  the  lady  of  the  house  wanted  a 
chicken  for  dinner,  and  couldn’t  catch  it,  so  she 
requested  me  to  get  it  for  her.  After  stalking  that 
chicken  around  the  yard  for  quite  a while  to  get  real 
close  to  it  I finally  succeeded,  and  shot  the  chicken 
in  the  head  at  ten  feet  distance.  All  the  same,  I am 
glad  I didn’t  meet  either  of  the  bad  men  of  Evergreen. 
They  finally  died  in  the  proper  way. 

I graduated  in  1869  from  Baylor  University,  my 
only  classmate  being  Dan  McIntyre,  whose  brother 


16 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


James  was  the  last  man  from  that  Congressional  Dis- 
trict to  graduate  from  West  Point,  he  graduating 
about  10  years  before  that.  Dan’s  father  Hugh  was 
the  sturdiest  sort  of  a Scotchman,  and  Dan  and  his 
brother  Duncan  had  both  been  Confederate  troopers 
under  Colonel  D.  C.  Giddings,  the  leading  citizen  of 
Brenham,  the  county  seat  of  Washington  County. 

After  graduating  I worked  in  the  field  the  balance 
of  the  year,  and  all  the  next  year.  In  the  South  they 
used  to  say  that  working  in  cotton  required  thirteen 
months  labor  each  year,  and  no  one  knew  until  after 
Xmas  how  he  stood  financially.  Well,  in  the  early 
spring  of  1871,  after  working  in  the  field  for  a year 
and  a half  I had,  after  scrupulously  settling  all  my 
debts,  just  one  small  bale  of  cotton,  and  that  had  been 
slightly  damaged  by  rain.  I hesitated  about  again 
working  in  the  field.  My  father  wanted  me  to  be  a 
lawyer,  but  he  had  no  suggestion  as  to  how  I was  to  get 
the  necessary  knowledge  of  law,  or  the  practice  of  it, 
his  only  idea  being,  apparently,  to  absorb  legal  lore  in 
the  office  of  some  noted  advocate,  as  had  been  done  by 
many  young  lawyers  before  me.  That  did  not  appear 
very  attractive  to  me,  and  just  then  an  occupation, 
more  temporary,  more  adventurous,  and  requiring 
less  mental  effort,  offered  me  the  alternative  which  I 
quietly  prepared  to  accept. 

A recent  student  of  Baylor  University,  named 
John  Tanksley,  of  Lavaca  County,  was  going  to 
collect  and  drive  a herd  of  cattle  to  Kansas,  and  his 
brother-in-law  Charlie  Chase,  of  Independence,  was 
going  with  him,  and  more  cowboy  help  was  needed. 
One  morning,  about  March  5,  1871, 1 was  down  town, 
looking  for  some  one  to  offer  me  some  sort  of  an 
occupation  for  the  next  few  months,  also  a purchaser 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


17 


for  my  poor  little  damaged  bale  of  cotton,  when  Bit 
Hines,  a young  man  who  had  served  with  General  N. 
B.  Forrest  during  part  of  the  Civil  War,  suggested 
joining  the  Tanksley  herd.  He  also  found  a pur- 
chaser, or  trader  for  my  cotton. 

It  required  very  little  time  for  me  to  exchange  my 
cotton  for  a small  mare,  hardly  grown,  and  to  get 
ready  and  start  that  very  morning.  I took  the  pony 
home,  and  quietly  and  quickly  got  together  a few 
clothes,  my  old  saddle  and  saddlebags,  bade  good-bye 
to  my  good  mother  and  to  my  brother  Balfour,  and 
then  I hurried  down  to  meet  Bit  Hines  at  his  house 
with  only  75  cents  in  my  pocket.  The  rest  of  my 
family  knew  nothing  of  my  going,  all  being  at  school 
except  my  brother  Will  who  was  then  in  New  Orleans 
with  Uncle  Charlie. 

While  waiting  for  Hines  to  saddle  his  horse  and  get 
together  what  he  was  going  to  carry  with  him  on  the 
horse,  Ann  Warren’s  little  boy  Tom  came  running 
from  her  house  which  was  close  by.  The  boy  said, 
“My  Ma  says  she  knows  you  ain’t  got  much  money, 
and  won’t  you  take  some  of  hers?” 

I replied,  “Tom,  you  tell  your  mother  that  I would 
like  to  have  just  four  dollars,  and  that  will  be  plenty.” 

In  five  minutes  more  the  money  was  there,  and  with 
my  $4.75  in  my  pocket  and  riding  my  little  mare,  I left 
home  for  a trip  to  Kansas  as  a cowboy,  to  be  absent  an 
indefinite  length  of  time.  My  companion,  an  ex- 
trooper of  Forrest’s,  had  very  few  good  traits,  but  he 
was  not  a disagreeable  companion  on  a five  days’  horse- 
back journey.  We  rode  25  to  30  miles  each  day, 
stopped  for  the  night  at  road  side  farm  houses,  paid 
about  one  dollar  apiece  for  each  stop,  and  had  no 
real  mishap  during  the  entire  trip. 


18 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


On  the  fifth  day  Hines  stopped  and  remained  at  the 
house  of  an  old  friend  whom  he  discovered  along  the 
road  about  midday,  and  I went  on  alone.  It  was 
then  only  ten  miles  from  the  house  of  John  Tanksley, 
and  there  I would  find  myself  at  home,  so  I rode  on, 
perfectly  satisfied,  although  I knew  that  I had  just 
five  cents  in  my  pocket.  About  an  hour  before  sunset 
I found  by  inquiry  that  I was  only  five  miles  from  my 
destination,  and  I rode  on,  glad  that  my  journey  was 
so  nearly  completed.  A little  after  sunset,  after  riding 
about  five  miles  more,  I came  again  to  that  same 
house,  but  from  a different  direction. 

I did  not  again  venture  to  look  for  the  place  in  the 
growing  darkness,  and  as  I had  only  five  cents  to  my 
name  I could  not  request  to  be  taken  in  for  the  night. 
So  I rode  on  into  the  woods  behind  the  field,  unsaddled 
my  horse,  tied  her  well,  and  wrapping  myself  up  in  a 
very  small  saddle  blanket  I tried  to  sleep,  being 
hungry,  thirsty  and  not  very  dry,  for  it  drizzled  very 
disagreeably  during  the  night.  I rose  very  early,  and 
promptly  started  out  again,  and  after  riding  at  least 
ten  miles  more  I found  my  schoolmate’s  house.  I said 
nothing  about  being  hungry,  and  assisted  in  chasing 
and  catching  some  horses,  afoot. 

At  last,  about  midday,  dinner  was  announced,  and 
my  appetite  was  so  evident  as  to  cause  remark,  and 
then  I explained  that  my  last  meal  had  been  the 
previous  day’s  breakfast.  In  a day  or  two  I gave  my 
last  five  cents  to  a little  boy,  and  then  I had  no  money 
of  my  own  for  six  months,  and  during  that  time  I did 
much  hard  riding,  and  much  sleeping  on  the  ground. 
I endured  more  hardship  during  that  six  months  than 
during  my  entire  Army  career.  At  no  time  did  I have 
the  equivalent  of  two  blankets,  and  seldom  that  of  one 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


19 


blanket,  never  a mattress,  or  a tent,  not  even  a rain 
coat  of  any  description.  Cowboy  “chow”  is  some- 
thing fierce,  and  cowboy  guard  duty  came  every  day 
in  large  doses.  While  at  Tanksley’s  house  of  course 
there  was  no  hardship. 

Soon  after  my  arrival  at  the  Tanksley  home  my 
boyhood  friends,  Charlie  Chase  and  Henry  Vickers, 
came  to  complete  the  number  of  cowboys  needed, 
and  we  commenced  the  work  of  collecting  a small  herd 
of  mixed  cattle  for  the  drive  to  Kansas. 

George  Tanksley,  his  14  year  old  son  George,  John 
Tanksley,  Charlie  Chase,  Henry  Vickers,  Bit  Hines 
and  myself,  together  with  a negro  cook,  comprised 
the  personnel  of  the  outfit,  and  about  March  15th  we 
began  collecting  the  herd.  This  labor  was  made  very 
tedious  and  time  consuming  by  the  fact  that  the 
Tanksley  brothers  owned  comparatively  few  cattle, 
and  we  had  to  look  hard  for  them  and  ride  endlessly. 

During  this  part  of  our  work  we  approached  Indian- 
ola,  or  Powderhorn  as  the  people  of  the  neighbor- 
hood called  the  place,  at  that  time  an  important 
seaport.  When  we  had  gotten  together  about  500 
cattle,  during  the  forepart  of  one  night  a very  hard 
rain  and  wind  began  while  I was  on  herd  guard  duty, 
mounted.  Soon  the  herd  got  beyond  our  control  and 
began  moving  against  the  rain,  but  without  at  first 
stampeding.  My  place  was,  at  the  time,  right  in  front 
of  the  herd,  riding  a few  feet  in  advance  of  the  animals 
and  trying  to  quiet  them  by  the  sound  of  my  voice,  the 
same  as  the  others  were  doing.  The  bright  flashes  of 
lightning  during  the  hard  rain  showed  me  a perfect 
sea  of  faces  and  eyes  of  cattle,  all  moving  noiselessly 
in  the  same  direction.  Those  brief  views,  given  by 
the  lightning,  were  very  interesting  and  but  for  several 


20 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


disagreeable  features  might  have  been  attractive. 
The  herd  had  stampeded,  and  they  kept  us  on  our 
horses  all  night,  and  all  the  following  day,  excepting 
three  times  a very  few  minutes  for  us  to  eat  our  meals. 
I remember  losing  consciousness  in  sleep,  and  waking 
up  to  find  that  my  horse  was  going  at  a trot,  just  as 
day  was  breaking.  It  happened  several  times  that 
night  and  following  morning.  Before  I ceased  to  be  a 
cowboy  that  occurred  on  one  or  two  other  occasions. 

After  collecting  the  cattle  the  morning  after  the 
stampede  in  question  we  continued  gathering  the 
herd,  and  having  consumed  about  two  months  in  such 
work  we  started  on  the  road  to  Newton,  Kansas,  at 
that  time  the  terminus  of  the  A.  T.  & S.  F.  Railroad. 
The  route  selected  was  via  the  towns  Lockhart,  Austin , 
Georgetown,  Belton,  Waco,  Fort  Worth,  Denton  and 
Gainsville,  Texas. 

During  all  this  time  I had  never  thrown  the  lasso 
over  a single  animal,  and  had  never  tried  to  do  so,  but 
I was  to  be  relied  upon  to  hold  down  any  beef  or  cow 
that  the  other  man  could  throw,  and  this  I did  many 
times  by  catching  the  animal’s  tail  after  it  was  down, 
passing  it  between  the  hind  legs,  and  then  pulling  hard 
to  the  rear,  thus  holding  the  hind  foot  in  the  air  and 
making  it  impossible  for  the  animal  to  put  that  foot 
on  the  ground.  After  completing  our  work  with  the 
animal  the  other  man  would  loosen  his  rope,  I would 
let  go  the  tail,  and  we  would  both  run  for  our  horses, 
then  about  50  yards  away.  It  was  good  for  us  that 
our  poor  tired  steeds  never  once  got  frightened  and 
ran  away  from  us. 

In  those  days  cattle  owners  marked  and  branded 
as  their  own  all  the  “mavericks”  they  could  find, 
regardless  as  to  whose  cows  were  furnishing  milk  for 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


21 


the  calves.  A “maverick”  was  a calf  at  least  one 
year  old  and  without  mark  or  brand  to  show  owner- 
ship. One  or  two  cows  on  the  range  was  good  enough 
foundation  for  a claim  in  that  neck  of  the  woods,  and 
energetic  work,  spring  and  autumn,  might  soon  intro- 
duce most  plentifully  a new  brand  and  a new  cattle 
owner  to  a range  where  a few  years  before  both  man  and 
brand  had  been  unknown,  except  by  hearsay.  We 
saw  plainly  how  all  that  could  easily  be  done,  but  my 
employers  were  either  too  honest,  or  had  not  been 
energetic  enough  to  keep  pace  with  their  competitors, 
otherwise  it  would  have  been  easier  to  collect  a small 
herd  of  their  cattle. 

As  we  travelled  northward  we  camped  one  night  in 
the  woods  near  Lockhart,  south  of  Austin,  and  put  on 
the  usual  herd  guard.  Henry  Vickers  and  I were  on 
guard  during  the  first  half  of  the  night,  and  we  sur- 
rounded the  herd  with  a circle  of  small  fires,  giving  us 
light  to  see  how  to  ride  around  the  herd,  which  was  in 
the  dark  woods.  We  would  ride  in  opposite  directions, 
meet,  talk  a little  and  then  ride  on.  About  midnight 
the  wood  was  getting  scarce,  and  at  one  of  our 
meetings  Henry  Vickers  said,  pointing  to  a dead  oak 
tree  close  to  me,  “We  will  soon  have  to  burn  up  that 
tree,  it  will  give  us  lots  of  wood.” 

Also  in  jest,  and  at  the  same  time  putting  my  right 
hand  against  the  big  tree  I replied,  “Nonsense,  Henry, 
we  can’t  push  that  tree  down.  Look  here.”  And 
with  that  I gave  the  big  oak  tree  a gentle  push  with 
my  right  hand,  remaining  on  my  horse  as  I did  so. 
The  strangest  thing  happened ! 

That  big  tree  had  evidently  been  waiting  for  a long 
time  for  some  foolish  boy  to  come  along  and  give  it  a 
gentle  shove.  Immediately  small  twigs  began  to 


22 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


break  off  and  fall  to  the  ground  from  the  top  of  the 
tree,  which  then  began  to  move  and  crack  with  increas- 
ing loudness.  Every  cow  and  beef  in  the  herd  seemed 
to  wake  up  at  the  same  time  and  heave  a loud  sigh,  and 
while  the  tree  was  falling  and  making  a terribly  loud 
noise,  every  animal  rose  from  the  ground  with  one 
impulse  and  ran  right  through  our  camp.  I saw 
some  sparks,  kicked  up  by  those  that  stirred  up  the 
remnant  of  our  cook  fire. 

I don’t  know  why  the  tree  didn’t  fall  towards  us. 
I quickly  said  to  my  companion,  “You  go  that  way, 
and  I’ll  go  this,”  and  we  rode  fast  through  the  woods 
after  the  stampeded  herd,  trying  to  outrun  the 
frightened  animals,  get  ahead  of  them  and  turn  them 
back.  I lost  one  stirrup,  but  I found  it  next  day,  and 
Henry  beat  me  to  the  head  of  the  herd,  and  we  soon 
had  them  stopped  and  “milling”  in  a circle  in  the 
dark  woods.  It  did  not  take  long  for  the  others  to 
join  us,  but  no  one  got  any  more  sleep  that  night,  nor 
the  following  night.  During  the  next  day  we  were 
busy  collecting  the  few  cattle  that  we  had  failed  to 
find  before  daybreak.  During  the  first  half  of  the 
second  night  at  that  same  place  a storm  and  heavy 
rain  came,  and  again  we  rode  all  night  long  after  a 
stampeded  and  frightened  herd. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  south  bank  of  the  Colorado 
River,  near  Austin,  we  saw  that  there  had  been  a big 
rise  in  the  river,  the  water  being  evidently  deep 
enough  to  make  any  animal  swim.  Not  wishing  to 
risk  the  lives  of  any  of  his  cattle,  and  having  often 
heard  us  talk  of  the  good  swims  in  the  Yegua  River 
near  our  home,  the  elder  Tanksley  said  to  us,  “Say, 
Charlie  Crane  and  Henry  Vickers,  would  you  like  a 
good  swim,  or  are  you  afraid  of  the  Colorado  River?” 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


23 


We  both  replied,  “We’ll  swim  across  and  see  how 
deep  it  is.” 

We  swam  across  and  back  again,  and  found  that  we 
could  let  down  and  touch  bottom  most  of  the  way, 
so  that  it  was  pronounced  safe  for  the  cattle  to  try  it. 
The  next  morning  we  crossed  the  river,  all  the  cattle 
having  to  swim  a few  yards,  one  or  two  cowboys  lead- 
ing the  way  on  horseback. 

During  the  entire  trip,  according  to  my  recollection, 
we  forded  every  river  and  creek  except  the  Brazos  at 
Waco,  and  we  were  glad  to  use  a bridge  there. 

Fort  Worth  was  then  a small  town  of  about  4000 
people.  I liked  Gainsville.  Our  road  led  through  the 
“Cross  Timbers”  in  northern  Texas.  We  rode 
through  two  parallel  strips  of  fine  woods  called  by 
that  name,  and  there  we  saw  lots  of  fine  trees,  mostly 
oak,  black  jack  and  hickory.  The  woods  varied  in 
width  from  five  to  twelve  miles. 

After  leaving  Gainsville  the  settlements  grew 
scarcer,  fences  fewer  and  grass  higher.  We  expected 
an  inspector  to  go  through  our  herd  before  we  reached 
Red  River,  but  we  saw  none,  and  then  we  regretted 
having  driven  out  of  the  herd  several  fine  animals 
which  had  persisted  in  joining  us  on  the  road.  We 
heard  of  various  herds  which  were  reported  to  have 
been  very  materially  increased  in  number  while 
travelling  across  the  broad  state  of  Texas,  and  people 
were  generally  mistaken  as  to  how  it  had  happened. 
To  any  one  who  has  travelled  with  a herd  of  cattle 
through  an  open  country  filled  with  loose  cattle  the 
guess  is  easy. 

We  found  it  absolutely  impossible  to  prevent  cattle 
from  joining  our  herd,  and  marching  with  us,  some- 
times for  days  before  their  presence  was  detected 


24 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


by  us.  This,  although  we  were  continually  using 
up  the  strength  and  speed  of  our  horses  in  cutting  out 
and  driving  away  from  the  herd  all  kinds  of  cattle 
which  seemed  obsessed  with  the  desire  to  go  along 
with  us.  It  was  indeed  an  honest  man,  or  one  who  was 
exceedingly  afraid  of  the  inspector,  who  kept  his  herd 
free  from  interloping  stray  cattle. 

We  had  in  the  herd  a number  of  tired  and  footsore 
cattle,  especially  one  old  cow,  and  these  animals 
gave  us  lots  of  trouble.  They  couldn’t  be  made  to 
keep  up  with  the  herd,  especially  that  old  cow.  One 
day  it  was  hotter  than  usual  about  11  o’clock  a.m. 
on  that  trail  some  forty  or  fifty  miles  south  of  where 
we  would  cross  Red  River,  and  the  heat  seemed  to 
affect  the  old  cow  more  even  than  usual.  After 
keeping  some  of  us  unusually  busy  driving  her  back 
into  the  herd,  the  poor  animal  darted  off  into  a thicket 
close  to  the  trail,  where  old  George  Tanksley  and  I 
followed,  the  best  we  could. 

We  soon  had  to  dismount  and  go  afoot,  and  old 
George  kindly  allowed  me  to  go  in  front  and  get  nearer 
to  the  cow  than  he  did. 

Finally  we  found  her,  standing  in  a sort  of  path 
made  by  the  running  of  water  down  hill,  and  she 
simply  wouldn’t  move  towards  the  road.  I didn’t 
like  her  looks  very  much,  as  she  stood  there,  with 
head  down  and  eyes  rather  wild  looking,  gazing 
straight  at  me,  so  I moved  quickly  to  a friendly  looking 
tree  which  had  a limb  some  six  feet  from  the  ground. 
My  intention  was,  of  course,  to  pull  myself  up  into 
that  tree  as  quick  as  thought,  if  the  old  cow  should 
come  my  way.  She  came,  all  right,  and  her  speed  was 
unusual,  considering  how  she  had  been  lagging  behind 
the  herd  for  so  many  days.  She  was  only  some 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


25 


twenty  feet  from  me  when  she  started,  but  I had 
climbed  many  a tree,  and  with  all  confidence  I reached 
up  and  pulled.  The  limb  was  dead,  to  my  great 
sorrow,  and  it  dropped  me  down  right  in  front  of  that 
infuriated  old  cow  which  I had  been  whipping  every 
day  for  weeks  to  keep  her  wdth  the  herd,  and  now  she 
came  at  me,  straight,  with  head  down.  I didn’t  have 
time  to  roll  out  of  her  way,  but  my  wits  stayed  with 
me,  just  a little  bit. 

As  the  old  cow  lowered  her  head  so  as  to  put  her 
horns  where  they  couldn’t  miss  me,  I put  both  my  feet 
in  her  face  between  the  eyes,  and  quicker  than  thought 
I was  doubled  up  and  rolled  over,  the  old  thing’s 
horns  apparently  fitting  perfectly  into  my  anatomy, 
and  my  body  having  no  stiffness  just  then.  As  I was 
being  folded  up  and  rolled  over  I made  some  sort  of  a 
noise  which  could  not  be  spelled,  in  any  language. 

I was  the  gladdest  fellow  in  the  world  to  find  that 
the  cow  ran  on,  and  that  her  horns  had  not  made  the 
slightest  scratch  on  me.  But,  old  George  Tanksley 
was  standing  there,  bending  low  and  rising,  and  not 
making  the  semblance  of  a sound,  although  his  face 
was  stretched  out  of  all  shape.  It  was  fully  five 
minutes  before  the  old  rascal  could  laugh  out  loud, 
and  some  minutes  more  before  he  could  talk. 

We  left  the  old  cow  there  and  rode  after  the  herd 
to  camp.  After  dinner  two  others  went  back  and 
tried  their  luck.  They  brought  back  with  them  the 
cow’s  hide. 

We  travelled  on,  and  finally  one  day  in  June  we 
reached  Red  River  Station  and  crossed  the  river  into 
what  is  now  Oklahoma.  Beyond  the  river  the  trail 
was  just  as  plain,  and  the  road  just  as  good  as  before. 
We  were  on  the  old  Chisholm  Trail,  which  consisted  of 


26 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


a very  much  used  wagon  road,  flanked  on  both  sides 
by  dozens  of  cow  trails,  covering  from  50  to  100  yards 
on  each  side.  Every  day  we  met  men  coming  back 
along  the  trail,  and  from  them  we  kept  well  acquainted 
with  what  was  ahead  of  us.  We  always  knew  how  far 
we  had  to  march  next  day  in  order  to  camp  at  good 
water.  Each  cowboy  had  at  least  two  mounts,  and 
some  had  as  many  as  five  or  six,  the  average  being 
about  four. 

Every  day  we  had  breakfast  by  sunrise,  even  with 
Bit  Hines  as  cook  in  place  of  the  negro  who  was 
discharged,  for  economy’s  sake,  when  we  started 
north  on  the  trail.  After  breakfast  we  immediately 
took  the  trail,  every  man  being  in  his  place  with  the 
cattle,  sometimes  one  man  riding  in  front,  always  one 
or  more  in  rear  of  all  the  cattle,  and  the  rest  riding  on 
the  flanks  in  order  to  prevent  scattering. 

For  an  hour  or  two  every  animal  travelled  freely, 
never  trying  to  nibble  even  the  choicest  tuft  of  grass. 
But,  after  a while  they  would  inform  us  that  they  were 
hungry,  and  then  the  herd  would  be  driven  off  the 
road,  near  water  if  possible,  and  allowed  to  graze  for  at 
least  half  an  hour. 

Several  stops  would  be  made,  to  allow  grazing, 
before  completing  the  day’s  march  of  ten  or  twelve 
miles,  depending  upon  the  distance  to  the  next  good 
water.  Herd  duty  after  arrival  at  the  place  selected 
for  camp  was  justly  arranged  by  roster,  the  same  man 
doing  the  same  duty  and  the  same  proportion  of  it 
each  day.  Similarly  the  night  herd  guard  duty  was 
done,  each  cowboy  being  on  duty  every  day  and  every 
night.  I heard  of  no  one  lying  awake  at  night. 

Shortly  after  sunset  the  cattle  would  all  show  signs 
of  having  eaten  enough,  the  herd  would  then  be 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


27 


rounded  up  a little  closer,  and  soon  all  the  animals 
would  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep.  At  night  the  cowboy 
on  herd  duty  rode  around  and  around  the  herd,  stop- 
ping frequently,  taking  a lazy,  restful  position  in  the 
saddle,  and  taking  myself  as  an  example,  he  would 
frequently  take  a short  nap  without  getting  off  the 
horse.  It  soon  became  easy  enough  to  do  this,  and  I 
believe  the  poor  tired  horse  slept  too. 

Frequently  we  saw  wild  turkeys  on  or  near  the 
trail,  also  antelope  and  deer,  and,  all  the  time  after 
crossing  the  Colorado  River  prairie  chickens  were 
abundant.  Whenever  our  meat  supply  would  get  low 
we  would  stop  a couple  of  days  at  some  good  camp, 
prepare  for  drying  some  beef  over  the  fire,  kill  the 
animal,  cut  up  the  flesh  into  thin  slices  and  dry  it 
slowly.  This  was  accomplished  by  spreading  out  the 
meat  on  a scaffolding  four  or  five  feet  above  the  fire, 
and  the  fire  was  spread  out  too,  and  kept  up  so  as  to 
burn  slowly.  This  dried  beef  was  the  best  part  of  our 
camp  food,  and  did  not  necessarily  have  to  be  cooked 
again.  I would  fill  a pocket  with  it  and  eat  as  I rode 
along.  It  tasted  much  better  than  beef  dried  as  the 
Mexicans  do  it,  slowly  in  the  sun  and  consuming  a 
week  in  the  operation. 

Several  days  after  crossing  Red  River,  during  one  of 
our  halts  near  the  trail,  a troop  of  regular  cavalry 
came  along  from  the  north.  With  one  knee  hooked 
around  the  horn  of  my  cowboy  saddle  I gazed  long 
and  longingly  at  those  soldiers.  Before  leaving  home 
I knew  that  the  Congressional  District  in  which  I 
lived  was  already  represented  at  the  National  Military 
Academy  at  West  Point,  N.  Y.  I knew  that  my 
playmate  and  schoolmate  Andrew  Houston  had  been 
given  the  appointment,  and  when  I left  home  I had  no 


28 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


hope  of  getting  there.  All  the  same,  that  troop  of 
cavalry,  on  that  hot  day  in  June,  1871,  north  of 
Red  River,  started  me  again  to  much  thinking  and 
much  wishing. 

Passing  north  from  Red  River  Station  we  soon 
came  in  sight  of  mountains  to  our  west,  and  we  knew 
from  those  we  met  daily  along  the  trail  that  those 
mountains  and  tall  peaks  were  close  to  the  new  army 
post  of  Fort  Sill,  in  the  Commanche  and  Kiowa 
country.  Several  days  more  and  we  arrived  at  the 
Little  Washita  River,  and  there  we  ascertained  that 
the  Choctaw  Indians,  through  a white  man  named 
Love,  acting  as  their  agent  at  the  crossing,  required 
all  herds  to  pay  toll  before  being  allowed  to  cross  the 
river,  so  much  per  head. 

We  halted  that  night  on  the  south  bank  of  the 
river  and  discussed  the  situation  among  ourselves, 
feeling  much  irritated,  and  seriously  considering 
waiting  right  there  till  eight  or  ten  other  herds  could 
join  us,  and  then  force  our  way  through  without  pay- 
ment of  anything  to  anybody.  But,  finding  that  Mr. 
Love,  the  agent  for  the  Choctaws,  would  accept 
payment  in  cattle  no  matter  how  lame  and  footsore, 
and  having  in  our  herd  several  of  that  description 
which  we  doubted  being  able  to  keep  up  with  the  herd 
much  longer,  it  was  concluded  to  pay  toll  and  pass  on, 
which  we  did,  and  while  doing  so  we  saw  a herd  of 
several  hundred  Texas  cattle  which  had  already  been 
collected  from  previous  herds,  at  that  same  place  and 
in  the  same  manner.  About  a million  cattle  crossed 
that  little  river  during  the  summer,  and  we  were  near 
the  middle  of  the  procession.  Mr.  Love  and  the 
Choctaw  Nation  were  very  thrifty  people. 

A night  or  two  later  two  Choctaw  Indians  came 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


29 


into  our  camp  about  sunset  and  wanted  to  stay  all 
night  with  us.  Of  course  we  said  “All  right,”  and 
gave  them  all  they  wanted  to  eat,  and  we  listened 
to  their  talk  in  easily  understood  English.  One  of 
the  Indians  had  a big,  fine,  fat  mule,  and  the  other 
rode  an  equally  fat  pony,  both  animals  in  pink  of 
condition  excepting  too  fat  for  a race.  Although 
there  was  no  evidence  of  fatigue  or  sweat  on  their 
animals  the  Indians  told  us  of  having  travelled  that 
day  25  or  30  miles,  and  of  being  tired  and  hungry, 
man  and  beast.  That  made  us  suspicious,  and  all 
night  long  we  watched  both  of  them  very  closely. 
The  next  day  they  remained  around  and  seemed  to  be 
in  no  hurry  to  leave,  but  finally  they  left  about 
noon. 

We  were  then  waiting  in  camp  for  the  arrival  of 
another  herd,  for  some  reason,  which  I do  not  now 
remember,  and  we  intended  remaining  there  the  next 
night.  But,  in  the  afternoon  we  saw  in  the  distance 
several  parties  of  Indians,  and  that  night  getting  nerv- 
ous because  of  what  we  considered  suspicious  actions 
on  the  part  of  the  Indians  we  got  up  about  9 o’clock, 
p.M.,  broke  camp  and  hit  the  trail  for  a long  night 
march,  with  me  in  front,  on  my  slow,  one-eyed  mare, 
not  the  one  I rode  from  home.  It  was  good  marching, 
nice  and  cool,  and  the  cattle  seemed  willing  to  go, 
which  helped  us  very  much. 

The  trail  led  along  the  top  of  the  ridge,  with  creeks 
and  beginnings  of  creeks  on  each  side  of  our  very 
crooked  road,  and  because  of  the  lay  of  the  land  and  of 
the  circumstances  which  caused  that  night  march,  it 
was  easy  for  the  imagination  to  run  riot,  ^ust-ar  little- 
-brfe  After  marching  a couple  of  hours  without  a 
halt  I was  positive  that  I saw  a party  of  five  or  six 


30 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Indians  approaching  the  trail  on  horseback  from  the 
left  and  rear,  and  getting  nearer  and  nearer.  These 
Indians  seemed  to  move  two  and  two,  and  sometimes 
one  would  drop  behind,  or  move  to  the  head  of  the 
column,  making  their  march  somewhat  irregular,  as 
Indians  do. 

This  was  what  I expected,  and  I had  no  doubt  that  I 
was  soon  to  be  up  against  it,  good  and  hard,  and  with 
no  one  to  help,  the  others  being  some  distance  to  the 
rear  and  on  both  sides  of  the  road,  and  my  pony  un- 
usually slow  in  speed.  My  hair  raised  my  old  hat  an 
inch  or  two  from  my  head;  I could  feel  the  hat  rise. 
Still,  I had  no  thought  of  running  away,  or  of  surrender- 
ing, and  there  was  no  trembling  as  I pulled  out  my  old 
cap  and  ball  Colt  six  shooter,  and  got  it  ready  for 
fight.  I was  a good  shot  with  that  pistol,  having 
killed  with  it  various  small  birds  and  small  animals 
for  the  mess  as  we  came  up  the  trail.  I had  made  up 
my  mind  to  dash  in  among  the  Indians  when  about 
50  yards  away,  waste  no  shots,  kill  all  I could,  and  if 
necessary  to  finally  save  myself  from  capture,  I 
intended  to  use  the  last  load  on  myself.  We  rode 
on  one  or  two  hundred  yards  more,  when,  looking  again 
and  again  to  make  sure,  I realized  that  the  objects  so 
long  the  cause  of  my  uneasiness  had  assumed  the 
appearance  of  small  trees  along  a winding  ravine, 
which  headed  farther  on  and  nearer  to  the  trail.  My 
hair  had  already  resumed  its  natural  condition,  and 
my  hand  had  never  trembled,  but  I certainly  drew  a 
big,  long  breath  of  relief  then. 

I have  often  thought  of  that  experience,  and  have 
been  greatly  encouraged  by  it,  drawing  from  it  the 
conclusion  beyond  a doubt  that  one’s  hair  may  raise 
one’s  hat  high  from  the  head  and  still  the  wearer  of  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


31 


hat  may  be  able  to  put  up  a good  fight  and  never  think 
of  running  away. 

A day  or  two  more  and  our  looked-for  companion 
herd  came  on,  having  among  its  cowboys  the  broth  of 
an  Irish  boy,  fresh  from  New  York’s  Bowery,  and 
recently  an  unsuccessful  candidate  for  a West  Point 
cadetship.  That  boy  told  lots  about  the  Academy, 
how  they  did  and  looked,  and  everything  he  told  me 
only  made  me  the  more  desirous  of  entering  the  Army 
through  that  best  front  door,  until  finally,  after  several 
weeks  of  riding  with  that  boy,  the  wish  became  the 
father  to  the  thought,  and  I forgot  all  about  my  friend 
Andrew  Houston,  at  that  time  a cadet  from  my 
district. 

When  we  were  south  of  the  Cimarron  River,  per- 
haps a day’s  march  from  it,  we  concluded  one  day  to 
go  out  and  hunt  buffalo.  We  had  for  several  days 
noticed  plain  proofs  of  the  nearness  of  the  big  herd, 
although  we  had  seen  none.  Returning  cowmen  had 
told  us  in  what  direction  to  look  for  them.  So,  one 
day,  after  a short  march,  we  made  camp  near  a thicket 
of  ripe  wild  plums,  had  dinner,  mounted  our  horses, 
and  with  only  cap  and  ball  Colt  revolvers  as  our 
weapons  we  rode  westward  to  hunt  the  buffalo.  We 
were  glad  to  ride  in  that  direction  because  it  gave  us  a 
guide  in  coming  back  to  the  camp  after  the  hunt. 
The  trail  ran  almost  north  and  south,  and  if  we  should 
travel  steadily  toward  the  setting  sun,  we  could,  by 
turning  our  backs  on  that  sun  finally  strike  the  trail 
again.  We  remembered  and  used  that  knowledge. 

After  riding  a few  miles,  scattered  abreast  so  as  to 
cover  a broad  front,  I noticed  some  of  the  others 
riding  at  full  speed.  I followed  in  the  same  direction, 
and  soon  discovered  that  we  were  chasing  a young 


32 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


buffalo  about  two  years  old.  We  soon  caught  up  with 
it  and  killed  it,  a poor  lean  thing  which  for  some 
reason  could  not  accompany  the  herd.  We  rode  on, 
all  together  now,  and  after  another  ride  of  a couple  of 
miles  we  saw  a huge  buffalo  bull,  all  by  himself,  near  a 
big  ravine.  We  got  into  that  ravine,  and  by  means  of 
the  concealment  given  us  by  its  banks  we  succeeded 
in  getting  within  a hundred  yards  of  the  big  animal, 
and  then  we  dashed  out  at  full  speed  and  rode  around 
him,  for  he  did  not  try  to  escape,  but  merely  raised 
his  head  from  grazing  and  looked  at  us  as  though  we 
were  as  great  curiosities  to  him  as  he  was  to  us. 

He  was  certainly  interesting  to  us,  but  we  had  no 
time  to  waste,  so  we  got  out  our  old  time  Colt  cap  and 
ball  revolvers  and  each  of  us  fired  a shot  or  two,  and 
the  old  time  monarch  of  the  herd  was  dead,  without 
offering  resistance  or  attempting  to  escape.  One  of 
our  party  took  off  the  skin  of  his  long  beard,  also  that 
covering  his  brisket  and  knees,  for  use  as  saddle  pocket 
covers,  and  again  we  rode  on  towards  the  setting  sun. 

After  another  ride  of  two  or  three  miles  we  saw,  this 
time  a small  herd  of  nine  buffaloes,  in  an  open,  level 
plain,  harder  to  approach  under  cover  or  concealment 
than  the  others  had  been,  and  soon  they  saw  us  and 
promptly  started  off  at  the  queer  gait  which  buffaloes 
use  in  running,  all  four  feet  striking  the  earth  at  the 
same  instant. 

My  horse,  this  time  not  the  one-eyed  mare  prev- 
iously described,  was  fastest  but  soon  gave  out,  and  I 
dropped  to  the  rear  and  put  up  my  muzzle  loading 
pistol,  and  followed  on  to  where  either  Henry  Vickers 
or  John  Tanksley  had  roped,  or  lassoed  a three-year- 
old  buffalo  cow.  My  comrades  were  enjoying  the 
sport.  No  shot  had  been  fired,  and  none  would  have 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


33 


been  fired  but  for  the  fact  that  we  could  not  afford  to 
lose  our  rope.  So,  some  of  the  others  fired  a shot  or 
two,  we  got  our  rope,  and  the  hunt  was  over. 

It  was  then  a few  minutes  before  sunset,  and  from 
where  we  then  were  we  looked,  and  the  sight  was  one 
to  be  always  remembered.  We  were  on  the  edge  of  a 
broad  valley,  and  could  see  up  and  down  it  for  many 
miles,  and  we  could  see  across  it  to  the  other  edge,  or 
ridge.  Our  view  included  miles  and  miles  of  buffaloes, 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  in  several  directions,  the 
nearest  animals  being  half  a mile  from  us,  and  none 
of  them  paying  the  slightest  attention  to  us.  That 
was  the  big  south  herd,  existing  at  that  time,  and  it 
then  numbered  many  thousands.  We  must  have  seen 
about  ten  thousand,  and  we  saw  only  a part  of  the 
herd.  We  had  frequently  seen  herds  of  more  than  one 
thousand  cattle,  and  we  earnestly  discussed  the 
probable  number  of  buffaloes  in  sight. 

After  looking  our  fill  we  turned  our  backs  on  the 
setting  sun  and  rode  towards  the  cattle  trail,  chasing 
a herd  of  antelopes  as  we  went  back.  The  only  thing 
I killed  was  a big  rattlesnake.  I shot  the  big  bull  once 
or  twice,  but  it  did  not  seem  like  hunting  or  shooting 
wild  game.  I did  not  shoot  at  the  young  cow,  feeling 
no  desire  to  kill  an  animal  which  was  not  at  liberty 
with  some  chance  of  escape.  We  reached  camp  with- 
out trouble,  and  we  saw  no  more  buffalo  on  the  trip, 
but  I will  never  forget  the  one  view  I had  of  the  great 
south  herd. 

We  finally  crossed  the  Kansas  state  line.  We  rode 
through  a border  town  called  Sedgewick,  and  through 
a much  larger  one  named  Wichita,  and  we  stopped 
at  Newton,  then  the  terminus  of  the  Atchison,  Topeka 
and  Santa  Fe  Railroad. 


34 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Wichita,  at  that  time  a town  of  ten  or  fifteen  hundred 
people,  was  built  entirely  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Arkansas  River,  but  the  broad  valley,  on  both  sides  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  was  dotted  with  small 
board  buildings  called  “preemption houses,” located  on 
160  acre  tracts  of  land  preempted  under  the  laws  of  the 
United  States  and  of  the  State  of  Kansas,  and  slept 
in  by  the  owners  often  enough  to  make  good  the 
several  claims  of  the  builders  of  the  houses.  The 
houses  were  few  and  far  apart  at  that  time.  In  a few 
years  a good  part  of  Wichita  was  south  of  the  Arkan- 
sas River.  Some  people  must  have  done  a big  busi- 
ness in  real  estate  dealings  during  that  period  of 
building,  the  land  being  at  first  pasturage,  then  big 
fields,  then  acreage  for  small  farms,  and  finally  town 
lots,  more  or  less  covered  with  houses. 

We  reached  Newton  about  the  first  of  August, 
and  found  it  to  consist  of  one  long  street  of  hastily 
built  wooden  houses,  extending  perpendicularly  away 
from  the  railroad  and  depot.  There  were  few,  if  any, 
houses  built  exclusively  for  use  as  residences.  Each 
store  had  an  upstairs  for  the  owner  to  live  in,  and 
saloons  and  gambling  houses  were  exceedingly  abun- 
dant. A reputed  son  of  Kit  Carson  was  town  marshal, 
and  he  was  very  unpopular  with  the  Texas  cowmen. 
Now  and  then,  rather  frequently,  there  were  rows  of 
varying  importance  and  consequences.  Our  camp 
was  pitched  a mile  from  town,  in  grass  two  or  three 
feet  high,  on  the  banks  of  a small  creek. 

Herd  duty  was  so  divided  as  to  give  me  all  the 
morning  and  the  first  half  of  the  night  to  myself. 
Frequently  I loafed  into  Newton,  to  kill  the  time, 
but  without  a cent  in  my  pocket.  On  one  occasion  I 
saw,  as  I walked  toward  town,  several  men  hurrying 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


35 


afoot  across  the  prairie  in  various  directions.  I 
inquired  in  town  what  it  meant,  and  was  informed 
the  Vigilance  Committee  had  requested  those  men 
to  leave  town  immediately,  and  the  order  was  being 
promptly  obeyed. 

Soon  there  was  an  election,  and  we  cowmen  were 
urged  by  both  sides  to  vote.  But  we  carefully  ob- 
served the  law  and  stayed  away  from  the  polls.  One 
side,  according  to  its  advertisements,  represented  law 
and  order,  and  designated  the  other  side  as  roughs, 
toughs  and  saloon  element  generally.  I believe  that 
the  “law  and  order”  people  won  out,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  Viligance  Committee. 

Money  was  very  plentiful  there,  and  good  positions 
were  easily  obtained  by  those  who  wished  to  work. 
Each  store  had  outside  the  front  door  great  piles  of 
dried  buffalo  hides,  awaiting  sale  and  shipment  east. 
Buffaloes  were  said  to  be  only  20  miles  away,  but  I 
think  they  were  farther. 

One  morning,  as  I was  going  to  town,  I saw  people 
collected  at  some  dance  houses  south  of  the  railroad. 
We  had  heard  a number  of  shots  the  night  before,  in 
that  direction,  and  evidently  something  had  happened 
there,  so  I sauntered  over  to  see  what  they  were  look- 
ing at,  and,  incidently,  to  kill  time.  I learned  that 
there  had  been  a dance  there  the  night  before,  also 
quite  a fight  between  Texas  cowmen,  called  “long- 
horns” and  other  men  called  “short  horns.”  At 
that  time  practically  all  Texas  cattle  had  long  horns, 
some  having  very  long  horns  with  very  little  curve 
to  the  front.  The  result  of  the  fight  was  four  killed 
and  four  wounded,  and  from  an  examination  of  the 
outside  of  the  dance  hall  quite  a number  of  shots  had 
been  fired  from  the  outside  by  people  who  could  not 


36 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


possibly  have  seen  anything  to  shoot  at,  there  being 
no  door  and  no  window  near  some  of  the  bullet  holes. 

One  of  the  men  killed  was  named  McClosky,  and 
one  of  the  wounded  men  was  named  Hugh  Anderson,  a 
Texan.  McClosky  was  a “short  horn”  who  had  a few 
weeks  previously  killed  a Texas  cowboy  under  circum- 
stances which  made  him  very  unpopular  with  Texans 
at  Newton.  It  was  said  that  in  the  fight  Anderson 
killed  McClosky.  A few  weeks  later  I saw  Anderson 
on  the  steamer  between  Brashear  City,  La.,  and 
Galveston,  Texas,  when  I was  on  my  way  home,  and 
about  four  years  afterwards  while  on  duty,  cadet,  at 
West  Point  I read  in  a paper  how  a Hugh  Anderson 
and  a McClosky  had  killed  each  other  in  the  Indian 
Territory.  The  paper  stated  that  Anderson  had 
formerly  killed  a brother  of  McClosky.  I sat  at  the 
table  with  Anderson  during  several  meals,  while  on  the 
steamer.  He  showed  evidence  of  recent  injury7. 

I have  always  liked  music,  and  have  noticed  the 
topical  songs  of  the  day,  and  I remember  that  when  I 
left  home  in  March,  1871,  the  girls  were  singing 
“Come,  Birdie,  come,  etc,”  and  I was  to  hear  the  next 
in  chronological  order  while  in  Newton,  under  circum- 
stances that  impressed  the  song  and  the  incident 
strongly  on  my  memory. 

While  loafing  along  the  streets  one  morning,  merely 
killing  time,  I heard  some  singing  in  a saloon  and 
naturally  drifted  that  way  and  entered  the  saloon. 

I saw  a big,  rough  looking  fellow  who  had  just 
finished  singing  “When  you  and  I were  young 
Maggie,”  and  he  then  leaned  against  the  bar  and 
looked  around  the  room.  There  were  a number  of 
men  in  the  saloon,  and  there  was,  apparently,  a lull 
in  the  drinking  business,  so  that  the  singer  had  to  face 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


37 


the  possibility  of  going  dry  a little  longer,  for  he  was 
evidently  singing  for  a drink.  But  he  was  equal  to 
the  occasion.  Selecting  a small,  harmless  looking 
fellow  he  pretended  to  know  him,  and  said,  “Come 
here,  John,  old  man,  it’s  an  awful  long  time  since  I saw 
you.  Well,  well,  I’m  powerful  glad  to  see  you.” 

Then  the  big  singer  turned  around  to  the  crowd  and 
called  out,  “Come  on,  boys,  and  have  a drink.  Step 
up  and  nominate  your  pizen.”  And  a dozen  men 
did  not  miss  such  an  opportunity. 

All  of  them  having  gotten  the  last  taste  of  alcohol 
from  the  bottom  of  the  glass,  and  naturally  looking  for 
the  singer  to  foot  the  bill,  what  was  my  surprise  to 
hear  the  big  fellow  say,  as  he  slapped  on  the  back  his 
simple  looking  friend  John,  “By  — , I haven’t  got  a 
cent.  See  here,  John,  you’ll  have  to  pay  for  the 
drinks.”  And  John  did  pay  for  them. 

If  I had  entered  the  room  a little  sooner  I believe 
that  I would  have  been  selected  to  be  the  “sucker,”  I 
looked  so  green.  Maybe  my  not  joining  the  crowd  of 
drinkers  saved  me. 

My  poor  old  sugar  loaf  hat,  much  worn  hickory 
shirt,  blue  je^ans  trousers  and  rusty  looking  old  shoes 
did  not  protect  me  from  the  sharps  that  swarm  thick 
in  such  places  as  Newton  was  then.  On  one  occasion 
I stepped  into  one  of  the  inevitable  gambling  places, 
and  instantly  the  only  two  occupants  of  the  room 
brightened  up  and  began  to  play  faster  as  I took  a seat 
only  a few  feet  from  them.  One  of  them  pushed  five 
chips  towards  me  and  said,  “Take  those,  and  bet 
them  for  me.  I know  you  have  good  luck.” 

I insisted  that  I knew  nothing  about  the  game,  and 
would  only  lose  his  money  for  him,  but  that  wasn’t 
enough.  The  gambler  insisted  on  my  betting  his 


38 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


chips,  two  at  a time,  and  I did  so,  twice.  Then, 
having  lost  four  of  the  chips,  I put  down  a single  chip, 
the  last  one  I had. 

The  man  appeared  hurt,  and  somewhat  insulted. 
“Well,  the  betting  is  two  chips  at  a time.”  And  when 
I reminded  him  that  I was  merely  betting  his  chips, 
and  had  only  one  chip  left,  he  asked,  “And  can’t  you 
make  it  good,  and  keep  on  the  game?” 

At  last  I knew  that  I had  better  be  going,  so  I 
quietly  said,  “Good  morning,”  and  went  out. 

It  humiliated  me  very  much  to  be  taken  for  such  a 
greenhorn.  There  were  other  instances  like  the  one 
described,  which  made  me  hasten  to  buy  better 
clothes  when  I was  paid  off,  preparatory  to  going 
home.  But,  I expect  that  I continued  to  look  just 
as  unsophisticated. 


CHAPTER  II 

Meanwhile  the  Irish  boy  was  all  the  time  talking 
to  me  about  West  Point,  and  what  he  said  was  work- 
ing on  my  brain,  producing  strange  results.  Some- 
how I became  convinced  that  I was,  by  my  absence 
from  home,  missing  an  opportunity  to  get  the  appoint- 
ment as  cadet,  and  that  all  I had  to  do  was  to  return 
home  and  take  it,  ignoring  the  fact  that  my  boyhood 
friend  was  at  that  very  instant  holding  the  position 
that  I craved.  But,  I firmly  believed  it,  and  after 
remaining  at  Newton  about  four  weeks  I could  stand 
it  no  longer.  I therefore  obtained  payment  of  nearly 
all  that  was  due,  told  my  comrades  that  I was  going 
home  to  go  to  West  Point,  and  started  for  Texas  about 
September  7,  1871,  in  company  with  Charlie  Chase 
and  Bit  Hines. 

I bought  an  old  time  real  carpet  bag  to  put  my  new 
clothes  in.  In  those  days  most  men  wore  paper 
collars,  either  glazed  or  plain,  and  I believe  that  I got 
some  but  I’m  not  sure,  for  I had  not  worn  any  kind 
of  a collar  for  six  months.  I had  gotten  along  with 
exceedingly  few  clothes,  and  for  nearly  six  months  I 
had  been  washing  them,  myself.  But  now  I had  two 
new  suits  of  store  clothes,  and  my  old  saddle  bags  were 
not  good  enough  to  put  them  in. 

We  had  a big  ham  nicely  boiled,  got  several  loaves 
of  good  bread  and  a couple  of  pounds  of  American 

39 


40 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


cheese,  put  these  things  in  my  saddle  bags,  and  then 
we  bought  second  class  railroad  tickets  to  Kansas 
City,  then  the  same  kind  of  tickets  to  St.  Louis. 
Our  second  class  tickets  from  the  latter  city  to  Mem- 
phis made  us  travel  from  St.  Louis  to  Paducah  by 
steamboat,  and  we  had  to  travel  deck  passage.  I 
didn’t  like  that. 

At  Memphis  we  stopped  one  night  with  a friend 
of  Bit  Hines.  I believe  we  slept  upstairs  in  a ware 
house,  down  by  the  river.  Charlie  Chase  remained 
there  with  Hines,  but  I went  on  to  New  Orleans,  still 
using  second  class  tickets,  all  the  time  for  the  sake  of 
economy.  Just  before  reaching  New  Orleans  I took  a 
last  bite  at  our  ham  bone  and  then  I threw  away  my 
old  saddle  bags  and  ham  bone.  I also  had  enough  of 
travelling  second  rate. 

In  New  Orleans  I hunted  up  my  brother  Will,  and 
stayed  with  him  a couple  of  days.  At  the  small 
boarding  house  where  I found  him  there  were  quite 
a number  of  other  men  boarders,  and  one  of  them 
attracted  my  attention  because  of  his  good  looks,  size, 
apparent  strength,  and  the  boldness  of  his  utterances 
in  that  day  of  “White  Leaguers”  in  New  Orleans. 
My  brother  was  a “White  Leaguer,”  joining  the  day 
after  that  day  when  the  “White  Leaguers”  whipped 
the  state  police.  I looked  the  harder  at  the  hand- 
some fellow  because  he  did  not  always  agree  with  my 
brother.  His  name  was  Zorn. 

During  the  day  or  two  that  I was  with  my  brother 
I heard  the  next  topical  song.  It  was  “Mollie, 
Darling,”  being  played  by  a band  marching  through 
the  streets. 

My  brother  took  me  to  see  one  of  the  small  weekly 
drawings  of  the  Louisiana  State  Lottery  where  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


41 


prizes  were  comparatively  small  also.  I bought  two 
chances,  one  dollar  each,  and  watched  the  big  wheel 
go  around,  stop  and  drop  a piefce  of  paper  into  a man’s 
hand.  This  man  then  called  out  a number  from  the 
paper,  and  another  man  instantly  wrote  that  number 
on  the  big  blackboard.  After  a while  I saw  that  one 
of  my  numbers  had  two  figures  which  were  in  a num- 
ber copied  on  the  board.  I had  drawn  an  “approxi- 
mation” prize,  worth  80  cents.  I came  out  well. 

I surprised  my  brother  very  much  by  telling  him 
that  I was  going  home  to  go  to  West  Point,  and  then 
asking  him  what  was  going  on  back  at  home  to  give  me 
such  opportunity.  He  replied  that  he  knew  of  nothing 
except  the  coming  elections,  and  in  answer  to  my  ques- 
tion told  me  that  the  Democratic  candidate  for 
Congress  was  to  be  Col.  D.  Giddings,  of  Brenham. 
I insisted  that  Giddings  would  be  elected  and  would 
give  me  the  appointment  to  our  National  Military 
Academy  , and  with  that  idea  possessing  me  I went 
on  home. 

I was  tired  of  travelling  second  rate,  so  I got  a first, 
class  ticket  to  Galveston,  via  railroad  as  far  as  Bra- 
shear  City  and  steamship  from  there  to  Galveston. 
As  I went  up  the  gang  plank  into  the  steamship  I 
heard  a voice  from  a deck  passenger  entering  the  ship 
by  a gang  plank  under  me.  It  was  Charlie  Chase, 
who  had  come  second  rate.  He  said,  “Will  you  please 
save  some  grub  for  me,  I won’t  have  anything  to  eat.” 
I told  him  that  I would,  and  I did.  I took  Charlie 
Chase  something  from  the  table  each  meal. 

I found  that  the  man  next  on  my  right  at  the  table 
was  Hugh  Anderson,  who  had  escaped  from  Newton. 
The  peace  officers  had  considered  him  so  badly 
wounded  as  not  to  need  guarding. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


42 


I arrived  at  Independence  with  enough  money  to 
deposit  $100  in  the  Giddings  Bank,  at  Brenham. 
This  reconciled  my  father  somewhat. 

But  I hit  him  hard  when  I insisted  that  he  should 
go  to  Brenham  as  soon  as  possible  and  request  Col. 
Giddings,  before  the  election,  to  give  me  the  appoint- 
ment to  West  Point  in  case  he  should  be  elected  to 
Congress.  No  Democrat  had  been  elected  from  that 
Congressional  District  since  the  Civil  War.  I natur- 
ally believed  that  the  promise  would  be  much  easier 
to  make  before  the  election.  After  a little  hesitation 
my  father  went  to  see  Col.  Giddings  and  obtained  from 
him  the  promise  to  give  me  the  appointment  in  case  he 
should  be  elected  Congressman.  All  this  time  my 
boyhood  friend  occupied  the  place  I was  so  sure  of 
getting,  but  in  January,  1872  he  left  the  Academy, 
and  the  cadetship  was  vacant. 

Of  this,  however,  I was  ignorant,  and  in  fact  I had 
forgotten  every  obstacle  to  my  obtaining  what  I was 
working  for.  The  certificate  of  election  was  given  to 
the  other  man,  a General  Clark,  from  Connecticut. 
Col.  Giddings  contested  the  election  in  Congress, 
finally  won  out,  sent  me  the  much  coveted  appoint- 
ment sometime  in  June,  1872,  and  in  August  of  the 
same  year  I reported  at  West  Point  for  the  necessary 
examination. 

Before  I go  to  West  Point  and  say  good-bye  to  my 
home  I must  say  a little  more  about  my  boyhood  in 
Texas. 

As  previously  described,  I arrived  at  Independence 
in  September,  1863,  and  naturally  I remembered 
something  of  war  conditions  in  Texas  after  that  date. 
I saw  several  generals  of  the  Confederacy,  but  I 
remember  only  Generals  Sterling  (“Pap”)  Price, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


43 


J.  B.  Magruder  and  J.  B.  Hood.  Price  looked  as 
though  his  men  would  nickname  him  “Pap.”  He 
was  tall,  greyheaded,  and  whiskered  excepting  the 
chin,  and  looked  very  fatherly  and  kindhearted. 

Magruder  was  smaller  and  shorter,  and  younger, 
and  wore  the  same  sort  of  whiskers. 

General  Hood  had  a very  long,  light  brown  beard  all 
over  his  face.  However,  the  war  was  ended  when  I 
saw  him  driving  a buggy  through  the  lane  near  John 
McKnight’s  house.  He  was  coming  from  Brenham. 

Magruder  came  again,  in  1867,  to  tell  us  about 
Maximillian  and  Carlotta,  and  their  fate  at  Queretero, 
Mexico. 

I saw  Walker’s  Division  camped  out  on  Big  Rocky 
Creek,  also  organizations  from  other  parts  of  the 
army,  all  seemed  equally  fond  of  catching  young 
squirrels  out  of  the  trees  on  that  creek.  Williamson’s 
troop  of  cavalry  was  stationed  for  several  months  in 
one  of  Baylor  University’s  buildings,  and  played 
havoc  with  it  and  with  the  neighboring  fences. 

The  healthy,  outdoor  life  I led  gave  me  unusual 
strength  and  endurance,  and  made  me  indifferent  to 
small  discomforts,  such  as  go  with  roughing  it  in  the 
open.  I was  the  big  boy  of  my  set  and  the  leader  in  all 
our  trips,  hunting  and  fishing,  and  in  mischief,  too. 
There  were  five  or  six  of  us,  but  seldom  that  many 
together  in  any  one  enterprise.  Sometimes  it  was  a 
hunt  on  the  Yegua  River,  and  sometimes  on  the 
Brazos.  On  other  occasions  we  would  go  to  the 
Brazos  River  for  pecans,  and  would  be  gone  two 
nights  instead  of  one  which  was  the  average,  and 
sometimes  it  was  only  for  a night’s  fishing  on  the 
Yegua.  On  one  occasion  it  was  a twelve  mile  walk 
to  Brenham  to  see  the  circus  the  next  day,  spending 


44 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  night  in  the  woods  on  the  edge  of  the  town,  around 
a big  camp  fire. 

For  these  various  trips  we  took  no  bedding,  and 
the  scantiest  of  something  to  eat.  Once  two  of  us 
walked  to  Brenham  merely  to  get  new  tubes  for  my  old 
muzzle  loading  shot  gun.  Our  outings  were  mostly  in 
the  fall  of  the  year,  when  pecans  were  falling  and 
hunting  was  good.  However,  our  fishing  was  done  in 
the  summer,  as  a rule.  We  expected  to  be  cold  and 
hungry,  and  we  were  seldom  disappointed  in  that 
particular.  We  were  on  the  lookout  for  piles  of  cotton 
and  cotton  seeds  to  use  as  bedding.  Two  of  us  tried 
once  to  sleep  in  a house  which  was  built  to  keep  cotton 
in  till  ready  to  be  ginned.  Some  hogs  slept  under 
that  same  house,  and  I am  sure  that  they  rested 
better  than  we  did.  Finding  ourselves  inhabited  by 
hog  vermin  we  soon  went  outside  where  it  was  drizz- 
ling, and  made  a big  fire  to  keep  ourselves  dry  and 
warm.  We  did  not  sleep  much  that  night. 

On  the  last  described  trip  Albert  Haynes  was  my 
companion;  indeed  he  was  my  companion  on  almost 
all  my  hunting  trips  horseback.  I usually  rode  my 
small  grey  pony,  or  rather,  my  father’s. 

On  another  occasion  the  two  of  us  rode  over  to  the 
Brazos  Bottom,  intending  to  stop  at  Atty  Clay’s  place. 
We  were  riding  along  slowly,  after  crossing  Old  River, 
and  my  pony  was  as  quiet  as  he  could  possibly  be — 
until  suddenly,  without  the  slightest  warning  he 
jumped  out  from  under  me  in  the  neatest  manner 
possible,  and  left  me  sitting  upright,  in  the  middle  of 
the  road.  The  pony  then  realized  that  he  had  played 
me  a mean  trick,  and  was  frightened,  and  started  home, 
ten  miles  off.  Albert  had  to  ride  hard  for  a mile 
before  he  caught  my  pony. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


45 


We  arrived  about  mid-day  at  our  destination,  and 
we  found  Curran  Holmes  working  in  his  cotton  field. 
He  was  working  Atty  Clay’s  farm  that  year.  Albert 
and  I hunted  all  that  afternoon  diligently,  and  killed 
nothing  at  all,  so  Curran  said  that  he  would  go  with 
us  the  next  morning  if  we  would  help  him  chop  cotton 
in  the  afternoon,  after  returning. 

We  gladly  promised,  and  the  next  morning  we  three 
hunted  hard,  and  killed  nothing.  In  the  afternoon 
Albert  and  I helped  our  friend  chop  cotton,  and  it 
was  hard  work  keeping  up  with  him,  and  of  course  he 
made  it  hard.  It  was  hot,  hot  enough  to  bring  out  of 
his  hole  a large  rattlesnake,  which  we  promptly  killed. 

A drizzling  rain  finally  made  us  stop  work  and  go 
to  the  house.  During  the  night,  what  I thought  was 
mere  heat  showed  itself  to  be  quite  a fever,  which  hit 
hardest  about  the  face.  Before  we  got  to  sleep  I 
knew  that  I had  the  mumps  and  I knew  that  the 
roof  leaked,  making  it  hard  for  me  to  keep  dry  while 
trying  to  sleep. 

The  next  morning  Albert  and  I started  home.  My 
mumps  had  become  quite  lively,  and  to  make  sure 
that  it  would  continue  so,  we  drove  a cow  all  the  way 
back  home.  Before  leaving  the  house  we  tied  a board 
across  the  cow’s  face,  the  board  being  several  inches 
broad  and  covering  the  eyes,  and  five  or  six  feet  long. 
Our  intention  was  to  compel  the  animal  to  keep  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  and  she  did  so,  finding  it  impossible 
to  go  through  the  bushes  with  that  long  plank  across 
her  face  and  over  her  eyes.  It  was  a long  ride,  though 
the  actual  distance  was  only  about  twelve  miles.  My 
mumps  got  well  very  quickly. 

In  climbing  the  very  large  pecan  tree,  on  the 
Baptizing  Creek  about  a mile  from  Independence,  we 


46 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


boys  used  a method  which  I have  never  seen  used 
anywhere  else  than  under  that  tree.  The  trunk  of  the 
big  tree  was  more  than  two  feet  thick,  and  therefore 
too  large  to  be  climbed  by  half  grown  boys,  but  the 
first  limb  was  horizontal  and  only  about  18  or  20  feet 
from  the  ground.  A much  smaller  tree  which  for 
years  had  given  us  an  easy  lift  to  that  first  limb  was 
finally  cut  down,  and  therefore  we  had  to  find  another 
way  to  rob  the  big  tree  of  its  pecans.  We  were  equal 
to  the  emergency.  We  found  in  the  woods  a long, 
small  tree  which  had  a very  small  limb  not  far  from 
the  ground,  and  by  cutting  the  tree  below  the  small 
limb,  then  cutting  that  limb  18  or  20  inches  from 
where  it  left  the  body  of  the  tree,  we  had  a long  pole 
with  a hook  at  one  end  of  it.  Three  or  four  of  us,  by 
working  together,  easily  raised  and  hooked  the  big 
end  of  the  pole  over  the  horizontal  limb  of  the  big 
pecan  tree,  and  while  one  boy  held  the  pole  steady  the 
others  climbed  up  it,  and  thence  along  the  horizontal 
limb  and  up  the  body  of  the  big  tree  to  where  we  could 
thrash  off  the  small  limbs  practically  all  the  pecans. 

Twice  I swam  the  Brazos  River  one  day,  each  time 
to  bring  back  a wild  turkey  which  Billie  Martin  had 
just  killed  and  which  he  gave  me  for  my  trouble. 
Albert  Holmes  and  I were  at  that  farmhouse  of  Atty 
Clay,  where  we  were  hungry  after  twice  robbing  the 
beehive.  We  had  shown  to  Billie  Martin  where  the 
turkeys  had  flown  across  the  river  and  he  killed  more 
than  he  gave  me.  I took  one  of  the  turkeys  home 
with  me  the  next  day. 

On  another  October  day,  shortly  after  sunrise,  I 
rode  my  horse  into  the  Yegua  River  which  was  at  the 
time  level  with  its  banks  and  running  fast  with  falling 
water  backed  up  from  the  Brazos.  The  bank  was 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


47 


almost  perpendicular,  we  went  off  into  water  over  our 
heads,  the  strong  current  carried  us  down  stream  so  far 
that  it  was  very  difficult  getting  out.  I had  to  get  off 
into  the  water,  at  that  point  swimming  deep,  throw  the 
bridle  over  the  horse’s  head,  swim  out  first  and  then 
pull  the  horse  up  the  steep  bank.  I was  alone,  and  it 
was  lucky  that  I found  a smouldering  fire  by  which  to 
warm  myself  and  dry  my  clothes. 

On  another  occasion  I pushed  the  same  good  old 
horse  off  the  bank  into  a badly  swollen  stream  which 
was  swimming  deep  from  a rain  which  had  just  fallen, 
and  I swam  after  him  and  again  assisted  him  to  land 
on  the  other  bank.  I had  been  to  Chappel  Hill 
collecting,  and  the  rain  came  just  after  I had  passed 
that  creek. 

All  the  wild  fruits  and  nuts  for  miles  around  were 
accurately  located,  and  frequently  visited  by  us.  I 
made  it  a special  point  to  take  home  ripe  wild  plums 
and  black  haws  for  my  mother,  who  was  just  as  fond 
of  those  things  as  were  her  children. 

All  those  experiences  prepared  me  for  my  cowboy 
life,  and  the  two  together  gave  me  good  reason  to  look 
forward  with  some  confidence  to  the  hardships  of 
military  life  in  the  field.  I found  that  I was  not  mis- 
taken, and  that  my  boyhood  roughing  it  had  made 
all  after  experiences  comparatively  easy. 

When  I arrived  at  home  from  being  a cowboy, 
about  September  11,  1871,  my  father  gave  me  work 
teaching  small  boys  in  the  preparatory  part  of  Baylor 
University,  and  it  was  good  for  me.  It  assisted  my 
father,  and  it  meant  more  money  on  which  to  travel 
to  West  Point.  It  also  increased  my  chances  of 
passing  the  entrance  examination  there.  That  ex- 
amination was  even  then  considered  very  difficult, 


48 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


but  it  was  mere  child’s  play  in  comparison  with  what 
is  now  required. 

Sometime  in  May  or  June,  1872,  I received  from 
Col.  Giddings  my  appointment,  and  I went  in  August 
to  report  at  West  Point.  I had  still  a little  money 
from  my  Kansas  trip,  and  I had  made  some  more 
teaching  those  small  boys.  I had  to  go  by  Baltimore 
to  collect  from  my  father’s  brother  Fuller  some  of  the 
money  which  he  owed  me  for  teaching.  For 
economy’s  sake  I did  not  use  the  sleeping  car.  This 
saved  me  quite  a lot  of  money.  I found  that  I was 
very,  very  ignorant  of  the  ways  of  the  world,  especially 
in  travelling. 

Although  still  possessed  with  the  firm  belief  that  I 
would  enter  the  Military  Academy  and  graduate  from 
it,  I continued  studying  for  the  examination.  How- 
ever, the  examination  surprised  me  with  its  ease  of 
passing.  My  task  in  Mathematics  was  to  reduce  the 
vulgar  fraction  tt  to  a decimal  fraction,  and  give  the 
rule. 

During  my  few  days  in  “plebe  barracks”  my  room- 
mates were  Crozier,  Ellis  and  two  others.  The  first 
became  Chief  of  Ordnance,  the  second  died  a major 
of  cavalry,  and  the  two  others  did  not  graduate. 
Our  examinations  were  held  while  the  Corps  was  in 
summer  camp,  and  we  were  “Seps”  because  of  the 
date  of  such  examinations.  W’hile  preparing  for  them, 
and  all  the  time  they  were  going  on,  my  strange 
confidence  in  myself  continued  unabated,  to  the  great 
amusement  of  my  roommates.  “Come  here,  boys, 
here  is  a man  from  Texas  who  says  he  is  sure  to  pass,” 
frequently  collected  a crowd  of  candidates  to  see  the 
curiosity  from  Texas.  Even  when  the  final  result 
was  being  published  to  us  I did  not  weaken.  And 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


49 


during  many  disagreeable  surprises  in  after  life,  for  a 
great  many  years  I never  lost  my  faith  in  myself  and 
my  good  luck. 

When  the  Corps  came  in  from  camp  I was  assigned 
an  area  room  on  the  ground  floor  in  the  7th  Division 
of  barracks.  My  first  roommate  was  Andrew  Russel, 
from  Connecticut.  On  the  1st  of  September  we  be- 
gan recitations.  I discovered  that  I had  never  before 
seen  hard  study,  and  the  end  of  the  third  week  I paid 
the  penalty  of  over  confidence  by  being  transferred 
to  the  next  to  last  section  in  Mathematics.  I did 
not  smile  for  the  next  three  weeks  and  I studied  as  I 
had  never  done  before,  and  I was  rewarded  by  a 
transfer  upward  one  section.  The  competition  be- 
tween selected  bright  boys  from  all  over  the  Union 
was  and  is  still  something  which  exists  nowhere  else 
in  the  world  to  the  same  extent,  except  possibly  at 
Annapolis.  The  recitations  of  Crozier  were  wonder- 
ful to  listen  to,  because  of  their  excellence. 

The  most  attractive  cadet  of  that  class  was  Sevier 
Rains,  of  Georgia,  son  of  an  old  time  regular  officer. 
Men  like  him  are  selected  to  command  the  rear  guard 
of  a retreating  army,  also  of  a most  forlorn  hope. 
He  was  killed  by  the  Nez  Perce  Indians,  while  still 
a second  lieutenant  in  the  1st  Cavalry. 

I had  failed  to  provide  myself  with  warm  under- 
clothing, and  I paid  for  it  by  contracting  a severe  case 
of  rheumatism.  As  a boy  I had  twice  been  troubled 
with  that  terrible  disease,  and  for  ten  weeks  now  I lay 
in  the  Cadet  Hospital  and  watched  my  prospects  for 
passing  the  June  examination  fade  away.  From  the 
Hospital  I watched  the  Corps  of  Cadets  march  across 
the  Hudson  River  on  the  ice.  They  were  on  their  way 
to  take  part  in  Grant’s  second  inauguration,  in  1873. 


50 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


While  the  Corps  were  absent  another  sick  cadet, 
named  Warwick,  prevailed  upon  the  hospital  steward 
to  get  him  some  fresh  oysters  from  Highland  Falls, 
and  those  oysters  Warwick  divided  with  the  other  sick 
cadets,  including  myself.  I have  never  forgotten 
Warwick’s  kindness  on  that  occasion.  He  was  killed 
in  battle  near  the  town  of  Passi,  Panay. 

As  the  weeks  passed  by  without  improvement  in 
my  condition  it  became  evident  that  I would  have 
small  chance  of  being  successful  in  the  coming  June 
examination,  especially  since  we  had  begun  Descrip- 
tive Geometry  while  I was  sick,  and  I had  never 
studied  it  before.  After  getting  my  instructor,  Lieut. 
Wm.  P.  Duvall,  to  come  and  tell  me  of  my  prospects 
and  finding  them  very  poor,  I applied  for  and  was 
granted  a sick  leave  till  the  end  of  August.  I left 
about  the  21st  of  April,  1873,  and  went  home  to  get 
well,  stopping  a few  days  in  Baltimore  and  several 
more  in  Mobile  and  New  Orleans  with  relatives. 

On  my  road  home  I arrived  at  Macon,  Ga.,  about 
8 p.m.  one  day  and  had  to  lay  over  till  next  morning, 
so  I went  to  a hotel  for  the  night,  intending  to  take 
the  train  early  next  morning.  I misunderstood  the 
hour  of  departure  of  my  train  which  I plainly  heard 
leave,  having  been  awakened  very  early  by  the  crow- 
ing of  many  roosters  scattered  over  the  town  of 
Macon. 

Being  left  at  Macon  for  another  day  I walked  about 
town  the  best  I could,  to  pass  away  the  time.  I found 
the  reason  for  so  much  rooster  crowing.  There  was 
to  be  a series  of  cock  fights,  where  roosters  from  va- 
rious towns  of  Georgia  and  Alabama  were  to  show  their 
prowess  in  the  use  of  the  gaff. 

I found  the  place,  and  had  no  difficulty  in  passing 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


51 


the  morning.  One  man  attracted  my  especial  atten- 
tion. He  was  called  by  many  people  “ King  Richard,” 
and  I dbuld  see  the  reason  for  that,  too.  The  man 
had  quite  a hump  on  his  shoulders,  and  he  wore  a big 
cape,  or  cloak,  and  he  was  in  on  almost  every  match. 

Steel  gaffs  were  used  on  the  roosters,  and  no  match 
was  allowed  to  proceed  until  $500  had  been  bet  on  it. 
While  the  matches  were  being  arranged  I frequently 
heard  expressions  like  “One  hundred  to  ninety  on 
Augusta,”  or  “Two  to  one  on  Selma.” 

Sometimes  a rooster  would  very  quickly  kill  his 
antagonist,  and  would  then  be  matched  for  a second 
fight  after  a few  minutes  rest.  That  second  match 
was  sure  to  be  fatal  to  the  victor  of  a previous  fight. 
Evidently  there  was  an  injury  to  the  easy  victor 
which  had  not  been  discovered,  but  which  took  from 
him  enough  of  his  strength  and  vitality  to  make  him 
easy  game  for  a fresh  rooster. 

Having  arrived  at  home  I had  nothing  to  do  but  to 
get  well,  and  I used  up  all  the  summer  in  doing  it.  I 
was  cramped  by  the  lack  of  money.  I had  used  up  all 
the  credit  I had  with  the  Treasurer  at  West  Point, 
and  my  father  had  to  help  me  get  back.  But  we 
had  had  nothing  like  a settlement  of  my  teaching  the 
year  before,  and  I never  felt  that  he  overpaid  me  much 
even  in  helping  me  back  from  sick  leave.  And  from 
that  date  $10  was  all  that  he  contributed  in  money  to 
my  support.  This  makes  me  practically  self  support- 
ing from  my  17th  birthday. 

In  returning  to  West  Point  I travelled  by  steamer, 
for  economy’s  sake,  and  gave  up  the  last  ten  days  of 
my  leave  for  the  sole  purpose  of  receiving  at  West 
Point  a few  lessons  in  dancing  before  the  end  of  camp. 
I reported  for  duty  on  August  19th,  got  three  lessons  in 


52 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


dancing,  and  began  recitations  the  first  of  September 
with  my  new  class,  for  my  absence  from  the  exami- 
nation had  turned  me  back  one  year  and  had  made  my 
course  of  study  one  of  five  years,  instead  of  four. 

In  my  journey  by  steamer,  returning  from  leave, 
the  thing  I remember  best  is  the  deck  covered  with  big 
turtles,  all  lying  on  their  backs,  their  weights  marked 
on  their  shells.  One  of  them  weighed  192  pounds.  I 
also  noticed  that  we  had  some  Cubans  who  seemed  to 
be  going  to  New  York  for  the  purpose  of  trying 
another  revolution  on  their  little  island.  They  left 
Tampa,  Florida,  with  many  “Viva’s”  of  all  kinds 
showered  on  them  by  their  friends  on  the  dock.  The 
intended  revolution  did  not  amount  to  much. 

My  new  roommate  was  W.  C.  Buttler,  of  New  Jersey, 
a member  of  my  old  class.  This  was  a mistake  of 
mine,  for  I should  have  roomed  with  a member  of  my 
new  class,  and  as  soon  as  possible  aligned  myself  Math 
my  new  associates  for  the  next  four  years.  This  I did 
the  following  June,  when  we  moved  into  third  class 
camp,  my  tentmate  being  A.  M.  Patch,  of  Penn- 
sylvania. He  was  also  my  tentmate  and  roommate 
during  the  remainder  of  my  stay  at  the  Academy.  I 
believe  we  would  have  continued  together  indefinitely. 
The  lapse  of  many  years  since  we  left  our  Alma  Mater 
has  not  weakened  our  mutual  esteem. 

Being  more  studious  than  Buttler  I caused  him  to 
give  more  time  and  work  to  his  studies.  I found 
that  Patch  also  needed  the  same  kind  of  friendly 
prodding  which  only  a friendly  roommate  could  give. 

When,  in  December,  1876,  all  our  recitations  in 
Engineering  had  ceased,  and  we  had  nothing  to  do 
but  prepare  for  examinations.  Patch  threw  his  text 
book  in  Engineering  against  the  wall  of  our  room  and 


IN  1875 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


53 


vowed,  “Old  Sears  knows  he’ll  find  me  (deficient) 
if  he  gives  me  that  subject  on  examination,  so  I 
won’t  look  at  it.” 

I inquired  what  subject  he  referred  to,  and  was  told 
that  it  was  “The  Groined  Arch.”  Patch  then  in- 
formed me  that  Lieut.  Sears,  his  instructor  in 
Engineering,  had  assigned  him  that  subject  each  of 
the  three  times  we  had  gone  through  the  book  and 
must  remember  that  he,  Patch,  had  failed  each  time 
in  recitation. 

I insisted  that  it  would  be  folly  for  him  to  neglect 
particularly  the  “Groined  Arch,”  that  the  instructor 
had  a perfect  right  to  give  him  that  subject  each  time, 
especially  as  he,  Patch,  had  failed  in  it  so  uniformly, 
and  that  the  instructor  had,  in  so  doing,  plainly 
informed  Patch  what  his  subject  on  examination 
would  be,  and  that  it  behooved  him  to  buckle  down  to 
hard  work  and  master  “The  Groined  Arch.”  After 
some  little  protesting  Patch  picked  up  his  text  book  in 
Engineering  and  for  the  first  time  studied  the  hated 
subject  which  was  quite  a bugbear  to  cadets.  Patch 
studied  it  hard,  and  then  he  dared  “Old  Sears”  to 
give  him  “The  Groined  Arch.”  I calmly  insisted 
that  he  would  get  that  particular  subject  on 
examination. 

On  the  completion  of  his  examination  in  Engineering 
Patch  bounded  into  our  room  and  threw  his  hat  one 
way  and  his  book  another,  wild  with  delight  boister- 
ously expressed  in  repetitions  of  “I  ‘maxed’  it,  I 

‘maxed’  it, him.”  I remarked,  “You  had  the 

‘Groined  Arch,’  didn’t  you?”  He  had  to  admit  that 
I was  right. 

In  another  six  months  we  graduated,  and  returned 
to  our  homes,  and  as  I passed  through  New  York  I 


54 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


heard  Aimee  in  light  opera,  and  I can  still  whistle  the 
principal  song  in  it.  I stopped  in  Baltimore  to  see  our 
relatives  there,  also  stopped  for  some  purpose  in 
Mobile  and  New  Orleans. 

That  was  the  year  that  Congress  failed  to  appropri- 
ate for  the  pay  of  the  Army.  For  July,  August  and 
September  the  great  firm  of  Drexel,  Morgan  and 
Company  paid  the  officers,  3 per  cent  discount,  and 
the  poor  enlisted  man  went  without  his  pay  till 
the  next  session  of  Congress  when  it  was  promptly 
attended  to.  That  neglect  on  the  part  of  Congress 
entailed  great  hardship  on  both  officers  and  enlisted 
men;  it  was  a case  of  fight  between  a Republican 
President  and  a Democratic  Congress. 

I was  at  West  Point  five  years.  During  that  time 
the  Corps  left  the  “Point”  only  twice,  once  for 
Grant’s  inauguration  in  1873,  and  again  for  the 
Philadelphia  Centennial  in  1876.  As  previously 
explained,  I was  not  at  the  first,  because  of  my  rheu- 
matism, but  I went  to  Philadelphia  with  the  Corps  and 
enjoyed  the  Centennial  very  much,  my  only  drawback 
being  the  lack  of  money.  My  father  came  to  my 
rescue  with  a $10  bill,  which  saved  the  day. 

At  Philadelphia  our  camp  was  visited  informally  one 
day  by  the  Emperor  of  Brazil,  the  kindhearted  Dom 
Pedro.  He  looked  like  a nice,  big  hearted,  prosperous 
farmer,  and  deserved  a better  fate  than  befell  him. 

I had  no  fights  while  at  the  Academy,  but  I was 
second  in  three.  I regret  very  much  that  during 
my  youth  no  one  compelled  me  to  fight  him.  It 
would  not  have  been  so  very  difficult  to  persuade  me 
to  fight.  I regard  it  as  a great  misfortune  that  I was 
not  induced  to  fight  my  very  best  two  or  three  tirma 
between  my  tenth  and  twenty-fifth  years.  Such  an 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


55 


experience  undoubtedly  enables  one  to  gauge  better 
the  other  man’s  intentions. 

Thanks  to  my  early  return  from  sick  leave,  in  1873, 
I learned  to  dance  well.  I enjoyed  the  cadet  hops 
very  much,  but  I remained  shy  and  diffident  during 
my  entire  cadet  life. 

During  all  my  cadet  life  I did  not  drink  a drop  of 
anything  alcoholic,  contenting  myself  with  a glass  of 
sweet  cider  at  my  last  Christmas  dinner.  Before 
leaving  home  I had  given  my  mother  a written  pledge 
to  drink  nothing  alcoholic  for  four  years,  and  that 
period  elapsed  before  I drank  even  sweet  cider. 

After  my  return  from  sick  leave  I had  another  attack 
of  rheumatism,  in  the  following  winter.  After  this 
second  experience  I went  out  very  little  in  cold 
weather  at  the  “Point,”  and  during  the  winter  my 
only  exercise  was  dancing  with  other  cadets  in  the  old 
Fencing  Hall.  On  week  days  during  the  winter  we 
danced  with  each  other,  to  music  furnished  by  several 
members  of  the  fine  Academy  Band,  and  during  that 
time  we  practiced  up  on  all  dances  previously  learned, 
and  we  taught  each  other  new  ones.  Without  that 
winter  dancing  with  each  other,  West  Point  cadets 
would  not  be  the  graceful  dancers  that  they  are. 

In  my  class  there  was  one  colored  cadet  who  suc- 
ceeded in  graduating.  He  behaved  himself  very  well 
indeed,  and  was  generally  liked  by  his  classmates 
but  no  one  openly  associated  with  him,  and  anyone 
seen  doing  so  would  have  been  “cut”  by  the  Corps. 
Henry  O.  Flipper  was  the  name  of  my  colored  class- 
mate. He  was  assigned  to  the  10th  Cavalry. 

“Cutting”  consisted  in  having  absolutely  nothing 
to  do  with  another  cadet,  and  on  all  unavoidable 
occasions  addressing  the  unfortunate  fellow  as  “Mis- 


56 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


ter.”  This  was  a cruel  punishment,  and  it  was 
sometimes  administered  without  sufficient  reason  or 
provocation.  So  far  as  I can  remember,  Patch  and  I 
did  not  join  in  any  “cuts”  except  to  address  all 
colored  cadets  as  “Mister,”  and  I advised  my  sons  to 
be  exceedingly  careful,  and  to  “cut”  no  one  merely 
because  others  were  doing  it.  All  the  same,  “ cutting  ” 
is  a part  of  the  unwritten  code  by  which  cadets  adjust 
their  internal  affairs,  and  taken  as  a whole  it,  or  the 
fear  of  it,  does  as  much  good  as  harm.  But  on  several 
occasions  the  “cut”  has  been  most  cruelly  and  un- 
justly inflicted.  At  least  one  such  case  happened  there 
during  my  time,  and  another  occurred  some  years  before. 

“Hazing,”  too,  is  sometimes  carried  too  far,  but 
the  young  man  who  cannot  endure  without  complaint 
the  hazing  done  at  West  Point  would  not  make  much 
of  an  officer.  From  my  experience  at  civilian  colleges 
I know  that  much  worse  hazing  is  done  at  such  insti- 
tutions than  at  our  Military  Academy. 

Altogether,  all  things  considered,  at  our  National 
Academies  the  cadet  imbibes  a high  sense  of  honor 
which  is  not  equalled  by  that  acquired  in  any  other 
way  or  at  any  other  institutions.  Every  man  stands 
on  his  own  bottom,  and  is  taken  at  what  he  shows 
himself  to  be.  There  exists  no  East,  no  West,  nor 
South,  nor  North,  and  fair  play  and  no  favors  con- 
stitute the  excellent  procedure  followed.  However, 
an  army  officer’s  son  will  surely  find  boyhood  friends 
among  cadets,  and  perhaps  some  friend  of  his  father 
among  the  instructors. 

Although  cadets  are  on  such  perfect  equality  the 
question  of  money  arises  disagreeably  to  the  poor  boy. 
I was  constantly  hampered  by  the  lack  of  money,  and 
I did  not  need  much.  Cadets  frequently  need  per- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


57 


haps  a dollar  to  subscribe  for  some  purpose,  and  I had 
none,  and  it  humiliated  me  that  I could  not  bear  my 
share  of  the  expense.  When  my  sons  were  cadets  I 
remembered  my  own  experience,  and  I saw  to  it  that 
they  fared  better  than  had  been  my  luck.  My  sons 
also  found  boyhood  friends  among  the  cadets,  and 
their  father  had  friends  among  the  officers  on  duty  at 
West  Point. 

The  course  there  is  a fine  leveller,  and  soon  brings 
each  son  of  an  upstart,  and  each  petted,  spoiled, 
mother  boy  to  a proper  appreciation  of  his  real  place 
in  that  band  which  has  not  its  equal  in  all  the  world, 
excepting,  possibly,  at  Annapolis.  Sometimes  the 
bright  graduate  fails  to  continue  his  hard  work,  and 
allows  a slower  minded  but  wiser  comrade  to  pass  him 
in  the  long  race  for  a high  up  place.  Sometimes  the 
brighter  man  looks  too  long  at  temptation,  and  as  a 
consequence  falls  by  the  wayside.  Four  years’  train- 
ing there  leaves  on  our  minds  and  bodies  and  souls 
impressions  so  strong  that  we  cannot  evade  or  avoid 
the  result.  Therefore  each  graduate  leaves  his  Alma 
Mater  a marked  man. 

Our  National  Academies  constitute  the  cheapest 
insurance  a nation  ever  had  against  war  and  invasion. 
The  pity  is,  there  are  so  few  of  us,  and  this  will  surely 
be  proven  when  in  the  not  distant  future  we  will 
be  called  upon  to  face  the  armies  of  Germany,  or  of 
Japan,  or  both  at  the  same  time. 

As  a rule  I believe  I was  given  my  proper  standing 
in  my  studies,  but  in  at  least  one  study  I think  that 
my  marks  were  lower  than  I deserved.  In  Engineer- 
ing my  highest  attainable  mark  seemed  to  be  2.7,  a 
perfect  recitation  being  worth  3.  During  the  second 
half  of  the  year  I felt  that  I was  doing  especially 


58 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


well  because  I liked  history  and  the  description  of 
battles,  but  it  seemed  to  make  no  difference,  for  my 
“ max  ” continued  to  be  2.7.  The  instructor  had  been 
for  a year  a cadet  lieutenant  in  the  same  company 
with  me,  and  I remembered  that  older  cadets  than  I 
had  considered  him  very  lazy  and  very  bright. 

I did  not  believe  that  he  was  doing  any  outside 
reading  about  the  events  referred  to  in  the  text  book 
and  our  professor’s  lectures,  and  in  that  thought  I saw 
my  opportunity  to  even  up  our  account  a little.  In 
one  of  our  lessons  the  text,  while  telling  us  of  the 
“oblique  order  of  battle”  informed  us  how  it  had  been 
used  at  the  “Battles  of  Levetia  and  Mantinea,”  and 
I did  not  believe  that  my  instructor  had  noticed  the 
typographical  error  in  the  first  name,  which  was 
evidently  intended  to  be  “Leuctra,”  the  first  of  the 
two  great  battles  where  the  Thebans,  under  Epami- 
nondas  and  Pelopidas,  broke  the  power  of  the  Spartans. 

Before  entering  the  section  room  I told  one  or  two 
comrades  of  my  intention,  which  was  to  ask  the 
instructor  about  the  two  battles,  and  learn  if  the 
word  “Levetia”  was  correct.  When  I asked  the 
instructor  as  to  the  correct  name  of  the  first  battle  he 
got  red  in  the  face  and  said  that  he  did  not  know, 
but  would  tell  us  in  the  morning,  which  he  did.  But 
my  max  continued  to  be  2.7,  and  I was  not  satisfied 
with  one  proof  of  my  instructor’s  laziness,  so  I looked 
for  another  opportunity  to  show  him  up,  and  I did  not 
have  to  wait  long. 

Our  Dufour’s  Strategy  said  something  about 
Count  Tilly  besieging  Heidelberg  in  1619,  and  of  the 
King  of  Bohemia  advancing  to  the  relief  of  the  city. 
I was  sure  that  my  instructor  knew  little,  if  anything, 
about  the  “Thirty  Years  War,”  and  that  he  had  not 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


59 


read  up  the  lesson,  so  I asked  him  as  to  the  correct- 
ness of  the  text,  telling  him  that  in  1619  Bohemia 
was  not  a kingdom  and  therefore  had  no  king.  This 
time  the  instructor  got  redder  in  the  face  than  before, 
and  simply  said  that  he  didn’t  know.  Of  course  it 
was  mean  in  me  but  I felt  again  that  I had  gotten 
even  with  my  instructor. 

It  was  Saturday,  and  on  leaving  the  section  room  I 
thought  hard,  and  began  to  be  afraid  that  I had  made 
a mistake.  I remembered  then  that  the  “Thirty 
Years  War”  had  begun  in  Bohemia  by  the  election  of 
a Protestant  king  who  was  quickly  driven  out,  but 
that  he  was  really  a king  for  a few  weeks,  and  that  he 
was  sometimes  called  in  history  “The  Winter  King,” 
and  the  “Snow  King.”  So  I hurried  that  afternoon 
to  the  library  and  read  fast  concerning  the  events  in 
question,  and  I was  ready  when  I entered  the  section 
room  Monday  morning.  My  instructor  said  not  a 
word,  however,  and  I showed  up  his  ignorance  and 
laziness  no  more,  but  my  max  continued  to  be  2.7, 
although  I sometimes  earned  a better  mark. 

On  leaving  the  Academy  my  roommate  applied  for 
the  cavalry,  and  I for  the  infantry.  Of  my  best 
friends  Barry  and  Blocksom  applied  for  the  cavalry, 
and  Glenn  for  the  infantry.  Though  I had  not  de- 
sired the  colored  infantry  I was  assigned  to  the  24th 
Infantry  and  was  given  the  first  of  four  vacancies 
then  existing  and  I have  never  regretted  my  service 
in  that  regiment.  My  company  was  “B,”  and  when 
I graduated  it  was  stationed  at  Fort  Duncan, 
Texas,  just  outside  of  Eagle  Pass,  but  because  of 
no  appropriation  to  pay  the  Army  I did  not  have  to 
join  till  December,  giving  me  lots  of  time  to  loaf  about 
home,  renew  old  friendships  and  make  new  ones. 


60 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


During  those  six  months  that  I waited  for  orders  to 
join  my  regiment  I saw  much  of  my  father  and  mother, 
and  I learned  better  how  fortunate  I had  been  in  my 
selection  of  parents. 

My  father  was  naturally  and  essentially  a student, 
with  very  little  of  the  practical  about  him  except  what 
concerned  preaching  and  teaching.  His  views  on  all 
subjects  were  very  broad  for  a man  of  his  cloth,  and 
he  was  both  learned  and  wise.  Added  to  that,  he  was 
earnest  and  eloquent  in  the  pulpit,  a power  in  the 
Baptist  Church  and  among  the  educators  of  the  South. 

The  following  anecdote  will  show  that  the  leaders 
of  the  Baptist  Church  were  not  always  solemn  and 
religious  in  their  conversation. 

Many  years  ago  the  celebrated  Baptist  preacher 
Andrew  Fuller  and  my  father  were  great  friends  and 
co-workers  in  their  church.  For  some  reason  Dr. 
Fuller  was  given  to  attempts  to  tease  my  father,  and 
this  time  he  received  better  than  he  gave.  In  the 
presence  and  hearing  of  other  pillars  of  the  church  Dr. 
Fuller  asked  my  father,  “Now,  Brother  Crane,  will 
you  please  tell  us  the  difference  between  a sand  hill 
crane  and  a turkey  buzzard.” 

My  father  was  not  much  given  to  retort  and 
repartee,  and  his  friend  Dr.  Fuller  was  about  the  only 
man  who  would  have  attempted  it  with  him.  The 
crowd  thought  my  father  was  cornered,  but  there 
was  a way  out. 

After  looking  very  thoughtful  for  a moment  my 
father  replied  as  follows:  “Well,  the  turkey  buzzard 
is  fuller  in  the  legs;  he  is  fuller  in  the  chest;  he  is  fuller 
in  the  neck;  really,  he  is  Fuller  all  over.”  The  joke 
was  not  on  my  father  that  time. 

As  for  my  mother ! What  man  can  look  back  more 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


61 


than  three  score  years  and  see  his  mother,  always 
equal  to  every  occasion  of  every  kind,  always  prompt 
to  act  for  the  good  of  her  own,  tireless,  unselfish,  and 
never  afraid,  always  doing  for  her  children  and  willing 
to  do  more,  without  feeling  that  he  has  not  properly 
requited  and  justified  such  mother  love? 

Both  father  and  mother  have  done  their  part,  and  I 
know  of  no  others  who  have  done  any  better.  My 
mother  successfully  brought  up  eight  of  her  nine 
children,  and  for  a great  many  years  all  of  the  eight 
answered  every  roll  call,  showing  the  wisdom  of 
her  care. 

Before  I permanently  leave  home  and  my  home 
friends  I must  say  a little  about  the  man  who  gave 
his  name  to  Baylor  University;  Judge  R.  E.  B. 
Baylor. 

About  6 ft.  2 in.  tall,  straight  as  an  Indian,  broad 
of  shoulder  and  thin  in  the  flank,  always  dressed  in  the 
old  fashioned  Prince  Albert  broadcloth  suit  and  full 
white  shirt:  we  do  not  see  many  like  him,  none  better. 
He  was  often  at  my  father’s  house,  where  I would 
care  for  and  sometimes  ride  his  very  large,  fine,  bay 
horse,  listen  to  his  reminiscences  and  wise  remarks  on 
things  in  general,  so  that  he  has  impressed  me  as 
one  of  the  most  interesting  men  I ever  heard  talk,  the 
others  being  Gen.  W.  T.  Sherman  and  Admiral  French 
Chadwick. 

In  his  young  days  the  Judge  was  a Congressman 
from  a mountainous  district  in  Georgia,  and  won  his 
election,  according  to  his  own  description,  by  his  skill 
in  playing  on  the  fiddle.  He  never  used  the  word 
“violin.”  His  competitor  was  a fiddler,  too,  but  he 
was  left  handed,  even  in  fiddling.  Thereby  hung  the 
tale  of  Judge  Baylor’s  success.  He  made  his  country 


62 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


constituents  believe  that  the  other  man  was  really 
right  handed,  and  that  when  in  Augusta  and  other 
large  towns  of  Georgia  he  performed  on  the  violin 
with  his  right  hand  much  better  than  with  his  left, 
saying  that  left  handed  fiddling  was  good  enough  for 
the  mountains.  When  the  other  man  on  his  next  visit 
could  not  fiddle  for  the  mountaineers  with  his  right 
hand  he  lost  their  votes. 

The  Judge  had  the  best  sort  of  description,  or 
definition  of  language  which  appears  to  be  exceedingly 
learned,  but  which  we  can’t  quite  understand.  WTe 
have  all  seen  or  read  of  men  who  excelled  in  the  use 
of  such  language:  they  mostly  fill  high  places,  make 
most  people  wonder  at  their  wisdom  and  accept  them 
at  their  own  valuation  of  themselves.  The  Judge’s 
description  was  like  a puncture  of  a wind  bag  or 
balloon  when  he  would  remark  of  some  great  talker, 
“He  slings  his  ideas  higher  than  he  can  reach.” 
Doesn’t  that  describe  it?  Even  Presidents  of  the 
United  States  have  been  known  to  use  such  language. 

Finally,  in  December,  1877,  I received  orders  to 
report  for  duty.  I borrowed  money  to  pay  my  way 
to  San  Antonio,  Texas,  and  there  at  the  Menger 
Hotel  I found  several  classmates  similarly  bound. 
Glenn,  Safford,  Kirby,  Wayman,  Plummer,  McMar- 
tin,  Brereton,  Bigelow  and  perhaps  one  or  two  others 
were  there.  At  the  Menger  we  looked  longingly  at  a 
dance  one  night,  and  we  all  wanted  to  dance  with  the 
prettiest  dancer  and  best  looking  girl  on  the  floor  who 
belonged  to  one  of  the  oldest  and  best  families  of  San 
Antonio,  but  we  were  not  inivted  to  the  ball.  I be- 
lieve that  young  Army  officers  are  in  greater  demand 
in  San  Antonio,  now. 

Older  officers  amused  themselves  with  giving  us 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


63 


awful  descriptions  of  what  we  would  find  in  the  near 
future.  One  in  particular  enlarged  on  the  danger  of 
train  robbers,  and  stage  robbers.  Only  one  of  us 
seemed  to  be  much  interested  in  the  stories  of  stage 
hold  ups,  and  that  officer  was  actually  held  up  before 
arriving  at  his  post.  After  several  days  of  sight 
seeing  and  listening  to  all  sorts  of  stories  of  stage 
robbing  and  wild  animals  we  started  on  our  several 
roads.  Brereton  went  with  me,  in  a stage,  to  Eagle 
Pass  via  Fort  Clark,  and  there  were  five  other  passen- 
gers, besides  the  driver.  Among  them  were  two 
lawyers,  Monro  and  Solon  Stewart.  The  latter  is  still 
living  in  San  Antonio. 

We  had  the  usual  experience  with  mud  and  a 
crowded  stage,  but  we  got  through  all  right,  and  at 
Fort  Duncan  (Eagle  Pass)  I ascertained  that  my 
company  (“B”)  was  stationed  at  Fort  Clark,  through 
which  we  had  just  passed.  While  at  Eagle  Pass, 
Brereton  and  I went  across  the  river  (Rio  Grande)  to 
seethe  Mexican  fiesta  then  going  on  at  Piedras  Magras. 
We  witnessed  several  bull  fights,  and  saw  other  amuse- 
ments offered  there  to  draw  the  public.  I found  out 
that  I didn’t  remember  enough  Spanish  to  order  what 
we  wanted  to  eat,  and  that  Brereton  did.  But, 
Brereton  was  a wonderful  linguist.  At  some  place 
where  we  ate,  and  changed  horses  for  the  stage  I had 
heard  him  talking  German  like  one  of  them,  and  I 
had  never  heard  that  he  knew  anything  of  that 
language.  He  said  that  he  had  studied  it  at  school. 

After  two  or  three  days  at  Fort  Duncan  I took 
the  stage  back  to  Fort  Clark  where  I reported  to 
Lieut.  Col.  W.  R.  Shafter,  commanding  the  24th 
Infantry  and  the  post  of  Fort  Clark.  My  captain  and 
first  lieutenant  had  been  engaged  in  giving  each  other 


64 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


official  trouble,  which  at  first  made  my  position 
rather  unpleasant. 

At  that  time  there  were  collected  at  Fort  Clark  22 
or  23  companies  of  infantry  and  cavalry,  in  antici- 
pation of  trouble  with  Mexico.  We  were  sure  of 
trouble  with  our  neighbor  on  the  south  and  we  enjoyed 
the  prospect  very  much  indeed. 

Shafter  was  then  about  42  years  old,  fat  and  very 
heavy,  but  nevertheless  a most  energetic  and  efficient 
officer.  He  was  an  excellent  post  commander. 

I had  never  been  a cadet  officer,  and  I enjoyed  very 
much  the  idea  of  being  an  officer.  As  a cadet  I had 
had  very  little  opportunity  to  command  anybody; 
several  drills  and  tours  of  Officer  of  the  Guard  and 
one  tour  of  Officer  of  the  Day  being  all.  I had  been 
given  very  little  experience,  even  in  listening  to  the 
sound  of  my  own  voice  at  any  formation.  Therefore, 
on  reporting  for  duty,  I felt  very  strongly  the  need  of 
practice  and  experience  in  drilling  my  colored  com- 
rades of  the  24th  Infantry,  and  I hastened  to  request  of 
my  temporary  company  commander  permission  to 
drill  the  company.  Lieut.  J.  R.  Pierce  was  delighted 
and  told  me  to  drill  them  all  I wanted.  Knowing  my 
deficiences  I carefully  studied  each  day  for  the  next 
day’s  drill,  and  I confined  the  exercises  to  those  I had 
been  studying.  I had  several  times  heard  Emory 
Upton,  the  Commandant  of  Cadets  during  my  first 
three  years  at  West  Point,  say  that  such  was  his 
invariable  practice,  and  he  was  the  finest  soldier  I 
ever  served  with.  With  lots  of  practice  I soon  got 
accustomed  to  the  sound  of  my  own  voice  in  giving 
commands,  and  I grew  to  like  very  much  the  drilling 
and  instructing  of  men,  and  gradually  I acquired 
confidence  in  my  ability  to  do  it  well,  and  in  a few 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


65 


months  I became,  in  my  own  opinion,  very  efficient 
in  handling  my  men,  on  and  off  the  drill  ground. 

Soon  I had  my  first  duty  on  a Garrison  Court 
Martial,  in  those  days  composed  of  only  three  officers, 
the  junior  member  acting  as  Judge  Advocate.  But, 
that  case  was  not  completed,  because  of  the  following 
accident. 

On  the  morning  of  January  30,  1878,  Lieut.  Pierce 
returned  from  attending  reveille  and  brought  with 
him  to  our  joint  room  over  Capt.  Nixon’s  quarters 
two  other  officers,  Lieut.  Frank  Mills,  24th  Infantry, 
and  Lieut.  Fred  Phelps,  8th  Cavalry.  I was  still  in 
bed,  lying  on  my  iron  bunk.  The  three  youngsters 
came  in  rather  boisterously.  The  weather  was  cool 
that  January  morning,  and  they  had  been  out  in  it 
and  felt  good.  Phelps  caught  hold  of  my  bedding  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed  and  said  to  the  others,  “Here’s 
how  we  do  it  at  the  Point,”  and  pulling  hard  and 
suddenly  he  jerked  me  out  of  bed  on  to  the  floor  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  where  I landed  on  my  seat,  with 
hands  and  feet  in  the  air. 

There  had  been  a loud  noise  resembling  a muffled 
explosion,  or  perhaps  the  falling  of  the  old  time  wooden 
bed  slats  on  the  floor.  From  my  position  on  the  floor 
I seemed  to  rise  without  effort  about  six  feet  away, 
slapping  my  back  and  feeling  very  much  dumfounded, 
like  the  others.  They  asked,  “What’s  the  matter?” 
Still  slapping  my  back  which  seemed  to  burn,  I 
answered,  “I  believe  that  pistol  went  off,”  and  looking 
around  I continued,  “Yes,  it  did;  see  that  smoke.” 
Hurriedly  all  three  of  them  inquired  at  the  same  time, 
“Are  you  hurt?”  “I  don’t  know,”  I said,  and  I 
began  to  examine  myself  to  find  out  if  I had  been  shot, 
and  where. 


66 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


After  quite  a search  I found  the  exit  hole  and  then 
the  others  discovered  where  the  ball  had  entered. 
That  injury  could  not  be  duplicated  without  death 
in  a hundred  intentional  efforts.  The  cal.  45  bullet 
from  my  old  time  Army  Colt  revolver  had  passed 
between  two  flanges  of  my  back  bone,  entering  at  the 
small  of  the  back  on  the  right  side,  and  coming  out 
just  to  the  front  of  my  right  hip  bone,  then  it  went  up 
through  the  top  of  the  house  which  had  no  ceiling. 

Having  discovered  that  I was  shot,  my  friends 
jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  I could  not  walk;  so 
all  three  assisted  me  to  the  other  iron  bed,  and  all 
three  ran  for  the  doctor;  at  any  rate  they  left  me. 
Phelps  went  for  the  Post  Surgeon,  Capt.  Passmore 
Middleton,  who  soon  appeared  and  began  to  lay  out  on 
the  table  some  ugly  looking  instruments  which  I took 
to  be  probes.  I broke  silence  with,  “You  are  not 
going  to  stick  those  things  into  me”;  to  which  he 
replied,  “But  I will  if  you  don’t  behave  yourself.” 
The  Surgeon’s  examination  proved  that  the  instru- 
ments were  not  necessary. 

In  eight  days  I was  out  of  the  house  walking  around 
with  a crutch.  Meanwhile  about  half  of  the  4th 
Cavalry  had  arrived,  under  their  colonel,  Ranald  S. 
Mackenzie,  whom  I will  never  forget,  and  do  not  wish 
to.  He  was  an  inspiration  for  many  a young  officer. 
He  promptly  came  to  see  me  while  I was  still  in  bed, 
and  many  others  did  the  same. 

With  the  coming  of  the  4th  Cavalry  the  24th 
Infantry  had  to  leave,  going  to  Fort  Duncan,  only  45 
miles  away. 

I remained  at  Fort  Clark  to  complete  my  recovery. 
Soon  it  was  going  to  be  Feb.  22nd,  and  I told  Dr. 
Middleton  that  I wanted  to  stay  at  Fort  Clark  until 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


67 


after  the  dance  on  Washington’s  Birthday,  and  he 
consented  to  it.  But  no  one  seemed  to  have  the 
energy  and  public  spirit  to  get  up  the  dance,  so  I did 
it  myself,  regardless  of  the  fact  that  I was  on  sick 
report,  and  was  really  a guest  at  the  post  and  had  no 
one  to  help  me. 

However  I did  it,  throwing  away  my  cane  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  22nd,  and  I danced  nearly  all  night. 

I had  arranged  it  with  Middleton  for  him  to  return 
me  to  duty  the  next  morning,  which  I soon  knew  had 
been  done.  By  9 o’clock  I was  furnished  with  a copy 
of  an  order  attaching  me  to  Company  “D,”  24th 
Infantry,  the  captain  of  which  was  then  in  San  Antonio 
temporarily.  In  an  hour  more  I was  given  another 
order  directing  me  to  march  the  company  to  Laredo 
without  delay.  I began  to  hustle,  and  found  the 
company  in  camp  on  the  Las  Moras  Creek  a mile  from 
the  post,  awaiting  transportation  to  take  it  away. 

I was  then  told  that  I would  be  given  a Daugherty 
wagon,  but,  because  of  the  need  of  the  wagon  that 
afternoon  for  a soldier’s  funeral,  I must  wait  till 
next  morning  before  starting  away. 

I wondered  at  my  good  luck,  for  when  Col.  Shafter 
went  that  same  road  only  a week  before,  with  three 
companies  and  a band,  not  one  ambulance  nor  a 
Daugherty  wagon  was  furnished  the  command.  At 
least,  I was  so  informed,  and  I have  believed  it  all 
these  years.  And  Mackenzie  paid  no  attention  to  my 
activity  while  on  sick  report,  yet  he  showed  that  he 
knew  of  my  condition  by  giving  me  the  Daugherty 
wagon  for  my  trip.  I was  not  really  well,  and  I needed 
the  wagon.  It  was  several  weeks  before  I fully 
recovered. 

The  first  march  out  from  Fort  Clark  was  a short  one, 


68 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


and  we  camped  on  the  same  ground  and  at  the  same 
old  nine  mile  water  hole  which  used  to  be  found  near 
that,  and  nearly  all  other  old  time  Army  posts  on  the 
frontier. 

In  two  days  more  we  reached  Fort  Duncan,  and  Col. 
Shafter  promptly  put  Lieut.  Marsteller  in  command  of 
his  own  company,  and  kept  me  at  Fort  Duncan  with 
my  own  company. 

When  I joined  the  24th  Infantry  the  band  leader 
of  the  regiment  was  not  a good  one,  but  in  a few 
months  Carl  S.  Gungl  was  appointed  to  that  position. 
On  the  stage,  between  San  Antonio  and  Eagle  Pass,  a 
most  unfortunate  accident  occurred  to  Gungl.  The 
stage  turned  over,  and  both  of  his  ankles  were  broken. 
It  was  many  weeks  before  our  new  band  leader  could 
come  along  and  make  us  forget  the  poor  music  we  had 
been  listening  to. 

Gungl  was  never  again  able  to  walk  like  other  men, 
at  least  one  of  his  ankles  being  somewhat  stiff.  Dur- 
ing the  early  stages  of  his  efforts  to  bring  order  out  of 
chaos  in  the  instruction  of  the  band  his  temper  was 
sorely  tried  because  of  the  lack  of  knowledge  of  the 
men,  and  to  make  things  worse  it  still  pained  the  new 
band  leader  to  walk,  and  when  he  had  to  walk  and  at 
the  same  time  act  as  band  leader  at  military  for- 
mations, his  temper  was  sometimes  evident. 

On  several  occasions,  during  guard  mount  at  old 
Fort  Duncan,  while  I was  Officer  of  the  Day,  or  per- 
haps acting  as  Adjutant,  I had  good  opportunity  to 
observe  Gungl’s  difficulties  and  his  method  of  solving 
them.  Several  times  I saw  him,  while  the  band  was 
marching  in  front  of  me,  put  one  hand  in  his  coat 
pocket,  bring  therefrom  a rock  as  big  as  an  egg  and 
throw  it  at  some  one  of  the  band,  1 the  same  time 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


69 


saying  something  to  him.  The  rock  was  sure  to  hit, 
at  such  close  range,  and  the  supply  of  rocks  was 
generous  for  I saw  this  happen  more  than  once. 

In  spite  of  his  difficulties,  one  of  them  being  the 
ungovernable  temper  alluded  to,  and  which  was  not 
altogether  due  to  his  stage  accident,  Gungl  soon  had 
an  excellent  band.  He  was  an  excellent  musician  and 
instructor. 


CHAPTER  III 


At  that  time  there  were  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Eagle  Pass  some  of  the  rough  and  ready  desperadoes 
that  have  left  such  an  impression  on  our  border  land. 
One  of  them,  named  King  Fisher,  had  killed  many 
men,  and  there  were  others  who  were  just  as  good 
shots  and  just  as  ready  to  fight.  The  saloons  of 
Charlie  Fessman  and  Mike  Wippf  witnessed  many 
interesting  occurrences,  and  sometimes  it  seemed  that 
it  might  become  our  military'  duty  to  go  out  and  bring 
some  of  those  fellows  in  to  justice. 

Part  of  the  time  I commanded  my  own  company, 
and  at  other  times  I was  attached  to  one  of  the  troops 
of  the  4th  Cavalry  then  stationed  at  Fort  Duncan.  It 
frequently  happened  in  those  days  that  a young 
infantry  officer  would  be  given  cavalry  duty,  so  my 
detail  was  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary,  and  I was 
glad  to  go.  One  of  the  first  field  duties  with  the  cav- 
alry given  me  was  to  take  down  the  Rio  Grande  to  El 
Jardin  a detachment  of  Troop  “E”  4th  Cavairy,  and 
relieve  a similar  detachment  already  there  and  bring 
it  back  to  Duncan.  So,  down  the  river  we  marched, 
20  to  30  miles  a day,  depending  upon  the  distance  to 
the  next  convenient  camping  place,  and  I enjoyed  it 
immensely.  On  the  third  day  we  arrived  at  El  Jardin, 
and  I very  promptly  bought  a young  goat  to  take  the 
place  of  the  fresh  meat  that  I should  have  brought  in 


70 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


71 


with  my  rifle,  to  eat  instead  of  the  very  fat  bacon 
then  furnished  in  the  soldier’s  ration.  It  was  very  fat. 

Intending  to  remain  over  a day  I was  on  my  horse 
early  the  following  morning,  with  my  rifle  and  ready 
to  hunt,  and  was  just  about  to  leave  camp  when  up 
galloped  a messenger  from  Fort  Duncan,  named 
Hamilton,  who  had  been  riding  hard.  He  handed 
me  a letter  containing  an  order  for  me  to  take  all  the 
men  at  El  Jardin,  and  with  them,  guided  by  Hamilton, 
march  across  country  to  Carrizo  Springs  and  join 
Lieut.  Hatfield  who  would  be  there  with  the  main 
body  of  the  troop. 

In  a few  minutes  we  started  across  country,  all 
glad  to  leave  El  Jardin  with  such  prospects  ahead  of  us. 
Indians  were  said  to  be  near  Carrizo  Springs.  We  saw 
no  wagon  road  for  more  than  30  miles.  We  sometimes 
travelled  what  Hamilton  called  a smugglers’  trail,  and 
sometimes  there  was  no  trail  at  all.  The  wildest 
animals  that  we  saw  that  day  were  some  wild  horses 
which  would  not  allow  us  to  approach  nearer  than  one 
thousand  yards  before  running  further  away.  I 
missed  one  or  two  good  shots  at  deer.  I had  sent  back 
to  Duncan  with  the  wagons  my  fine  sporting  rifle,  and 
I was  now  trying  to  use  a soldier’s  carbine. 

About  8.30  p.m.  that  day  in  May  we  arrived  at 
Carrizo  Springs  and  saw  camp  fires  on  several  hills. 
Hatfield  was  there  with  his  troop,  and  Buliis  was 
there  with  his  Seminole  Scouts.  I visited  their 
camps  that  night,  and  learned  that  already  it  was 
certain  that  it  was  another  false  alarm,  no  Indians. 

But,  Hatfield  and  I had  no  desire  to  return  to  the 
post  immediately,  so  we  carefully  studied  the  order 
and  concluded  that  under  it  we  could  go  on  down  the 
Nueces  River  a few  days,  keeping,  of  course,  a good 


72 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


lookout  for  Indians.  We  did  so,  and  saw  no  Indians, 
for  there  were  none  in  the  country,  but  we  enjoyed 
very  much  the  wild  country  passed  through,  also  the 
game  we  saw.  One  day  I brought  into  camp,  killed 
with  a soldier’s  carbine,  a beautiful  specimen  of  the 
ocelot,  a very  large,  long  tail  cat  with  spots  like  those 
of  a leopard,  or  tiger.  The  ranchmen  called  it  a tiger 
cat.  On  another  day  I killed  two  turkeys  at  one  shot 
with  that  same  carbine.  I was  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river  from  them,  and  saw  them  running  away 
from  me  down  a straight  path,  and  I kneeled  and  fired 
at  the  nearest  bird,  hoping  to  hit  more  than  one,  with 
perfect  success.  I found  a drift  pile  and  on  it  I 
crossed  the  river  with  my  turkeys.  While  walking  a 
big  tree  I saw,  in  the  water  at  my  feet,  a gar  at  least 
four  feet  long.  I drew  my  revolver  and  putting 
the  muzzle  close  to  the  big  fish  I fired.  The  gar 
slowly  sank.  We  had  a fine  time  during  the  entire 
scout. 

The  killing  of  the  ocelot  is  worth  a description,  and 
I’ll  give  it.  With  the  soldier  carbine  I did  some  very 
poor  shooting  before  I learned  how  low  I had  to  aim. 
I missed  at  least  seven  shots  at  turkeys  less  than  75 
yards  away,  but  at  last  I killed  one  by  shooting  it 
through  the  high  part  of  the  neck  when  I had  aimed  at 
the  body ! 

With  the  valuable  information  given  me  by  the 
killing  of  that  turkey  I left  camp  one  morning  and 
walked  up  the  Nueces  River.  I found,  by  following  the 
river  bank,  that  the  stream  at  one  place  made  a regular 
horse  shoe  bend,  with  the  ends  of  the  shoe  only  about 
one  hundred  yards  apart.  I was  glad  to  remember  the 
short  distance  across,  for  when  I shot  a big,  fat  'coon 
out  of  the  forks  of  a tree  at  one  end  of  that  short  dis- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


73 


tance,  the  noise  of  shooting  brought  out  of  a hollow 
log  near  the  banks  of  the  river  a beautiful,  long  tail, 
spotted  wild  cat,  which  ran  down  the  river  and 
followed  its  bend.  I instantly  ran  across  the  neck  of 
the  horse  shoe  bend  of  the  river  and  beat  the  cat  to  it. 
In  fact,  I had  to  wait  what  seemed  to  me  quite  a while 
before  the  cat  slowly  crept  in  sight.  Aiming  low,  with 
one  shot  I killed  my  first  “tiger  cat,”  and  I carried 
it  into  camp  on  my  shoulder.  Bullis  is  the  only  other 
officer  that  I know  killed  one.  I forgot  the  hide  when 
I moved  from  Duncan  the  next  year. 

A short  time  after  that  a still  finer  outing  was 
given  the  troops  of  that  part  of  Texas.  At  that  time  a 
treaty  between  Mexico  and  the  United  States  gave 
each  nation  the  right  to  pursue  across  the  boundary 
line  depredating  Indians,  provided  the  trail  remained 
good  and  hot.  Well,  a trail  was  found  crossing  the 
Rio  Grande  at  Hackberry  Ford  which  remained  good 
and  hot  a long  time. 

A battery  of  field  artillery  from  San  Antonio, 
several  companies  from  Fort  McKavett,  other  com- 
panies from  Duncan  and  Del  Rio,  together  with 
infantry,  cavalry  and  scouts  from  Clark,  all  crossed  the 
river  at  the  Hackberry  Ford  in  pursuit  of  depredating 
Indians.  Col.  Mackenzie  with  about  six  troops  of 
the  4th  Cavalry  and  some  scouts  crossed  over  several 
days  ahead,  having  a Mexican  guide.  They  went 
many  miles  into  Mexico,  headed  straight  for  the  home 
of  certain  Indians  who  were  known  to  be  bad. 

The  guide  got  sick,  or  faint  hearted,  and  failed  to 
guide  Mackenzie  to  where  the  Indians  lived,  thus 
necessitating  his  return.  He  came  down  a beautiful 
river  to  where  Col.  Shafter  was  camped  with  the  main 
body,  awaiting  developments.  The  main  body  was 


74 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


composed  of  infantry,  cavalry,  field  artillery  which 
included  six  field  pieces  and  two  Gatling  guns,  and  a 
wagon  train,  in  all  about  700  more  men  to  assist 
Mackenzie’s  300  in  case  of  trouble.  We  had  all  made 
a march  of  concentration  on  that  ford,  and  then  we 
crossed  easily  and  smoothly,  an  infantryman  mounted 
behind  each  cavalryman. 

We  were  camped  ten  or  twelve  miles  inland,  on  a 
beautiful  little  river,  waiting  for  the  fight  to  come  our 
way.  I caught  a few  bass  while  thus  waiting. 
Mackenzie  was  very  much  disgusted  and  not  amiable 
about  that  time.  Considering  the  fact  (?)  that  we 
were  after  Indians,  and  could  not  find  them,  it  might 
be  supposed  that  we  returned  promptly  by  the  same 
route  that  we  had  used  in  getting  there.  Nothing  like 
that  happened.  We  continued  our  march  into  Mexico, 
being  several  days  on  the  south  side  of  the  Rio  Grande, 
and  we  saw  some  very  pretty  country. 

One  day  we  arrived  about  mid-day  at  Remolino, 
at  the  junction  of  two  bold  mountain  streams  named 
Rey  and  Molino.  The  town  was  occupied  by  several 
hundred  Mexican  regulars  under  Col.  Pedro  Valdez, 
nicknamed  “Winker.”  Valdez  sent  Mackenzie  word, 
“You  can’t  pass  through  here,  wTe  are  here  and  will 
resist.” 

Mackenzie  replied,  “It  is  now  12  o’clock  and  my 
men  have  stopped  for  lunch.  At  2 o’clock  we  are 
going  to  march  through  Remolino,  and  you  had  better 
get  out  of  the  way.” 

We  marched  through  Remolino,  under  orders  which 
contemplated  battle,  the  24th  Infantry  being  given 
the  route  through  town.  Col.  Sliafter  gave  his  own 
regiment  what  we  requested  of  him,  the  nut  to  crack, 
if  there  should  be  one.  Our  battlion,  in  skirmish 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


75 


line,  marched  through  the  town  and  kept  on  across 
the  valley  towards  some  bluffs  where  we  saw  some 
Mexican  troops,  also  in  skirmish  line  and  apparently 
waiting  for  us. 

Our  orders  not  to  fire  first  came  from  Mackenzie, 
and  it  was  said  that  in  obedience  to  them  our  men 
had  even  allowed  a bear  to  cross  the  road  in  front 
of  them  without  molesting  it.  We  were  still  obedient. 
The  Mexicans  remained  in  sight  until  we  arrived  with- 
in about  200  yards  of  their  line  on  the  bluffs,  and  then 
they  disappeared.  On  climbing  the  bluffs  we  saw 
them  galloping  down  the  road,  about  300  yards  from 
us.  That  road  was  our  route,  too,  and  we  followed 
and  went  into  camp  after  marching  some  six  miles 
further. 

According  to  report,  Valdez  sent  word  to  Mackenzie 
that  night,  “I  will  escort  you  across  the  river.”  To 
which  Mackenzie  replied,  “All  right,  but  keep  out  of 
the  way  and  stay  at  a safe  distance.” 

We  were  headed  towards  Monclova  Vieja,  but  just 
before  reaching  that  town  on  the  Rio  Grande  our 
cavalry  drove  some  Mexican  troops  off  several  hills 
which  commanded  the  road,  and  captured  one 
soldier,  but  released  him  before  night. 

We  crossed  the  river  at  Monclova  Vieja  and  then 
marched  slowly  to  our  several  stations,  the  field 
artillery  and  the  10th  Infantry  stopping  a short 
time  at  Duncan,  in  camp. 

We  had  on  that  expedition  approximately  600 
infantry,  400  cavalry,  one  field  battery  of  six  pieces, 
Bullis’  Seminole  Scouts,  and  two  Gatling  guns  under 
Lieut.  F.  H.  Mills,  24th  Infantry.  Bullis  commanded 
his  scouts  and  was  greatly  trusted.  We  had  many 
wagons,  and  of  great  meaning  as  showing  what  we 


76 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


expected  to  do  in  Mexico,  we  had  39  Red  Cross  ambu- 
lances. I carefully  counted  the  ambulances. 

Mackenzie  commanded  the  expedition,  and  under 
him  Shafter  commanded  the  infantry,  S.  M.  B.  Young 
the  cavalry,  and  Williston  the  artillery.  Joseph  H. 
Dorst  was  our  Adjutant-General,  and  H.  W.  Lawton 
was  our  Chief  Quartermaster. 

We  had  infantry  from  the  10th,  20th,  24th  and  25th 
regiments,  and  cavalry  from  the  4th  and  8th,  and  per- 
haps from  the  10th  also,  but  I am  not  sure  about  the 
last  regiment. 

Mackenzie  commanded  a district,  which,  however, 
did  not  include  the  10th  Infantry  at  Fort  McKavett, 
nor  the  artillery  at  San  Antonio,  the  location  of 
Department  Headquarters.  Therefore,  the  Depart- 
ment Commander,  Brig.  General  E.  0.  C.  Ord,  a fine 
and  very  efficient  officer,  must  have  given  orders  for 
the  concentration  and  march  into  Mexico.  And  Ord 
being  the  able  and  very  bright  man  that  he  was,  surely 
did  not  allow  that  expedition  to  move  without  orders, 
or  instructions  of  some  sort  from  Washington. 

Undoubtedly  Mexico  took  up  the  matter  through 
her  minister  at  Washington.  My  belief  has  always 
been  that  Gen.  Ord,  in  being  retired  at  62  years  of  age 
was  made  the  scapegoat  of  the  expedition.  This 
retirement  happened  two  years  later,  but  diplomacy 
moves  slowly. 

During  our  march  it  was  our  belief  that  it  was  done 
with  the  hope  and  expectation  of  getting  up  a war 
with  Mexico : that  Mackenzie  with  his  cavalry  was  to 
march  in,  jump  and  surprise  a band  of  Indians  in  the 
mountains,  these  people  living  in  peace  and  friendship 
with  their  Mexican  neighbors  who  were  almost  as 
Indian  as  they  were.  Their  Mexican  neighbors  were 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


77 


expected  to  take  up  the  fight  in  defence  of  their  Indian 
friends,  Mackenzie  was  to  retreat  slowly  down  the 
river,  not  too  fast  but  just  fast  enough  to  induce  the 
other  fellows  to  follow.  In  two  or  three  days  Mac- 
kenzie would  reach  our  camp,  a real  fight  would  take 
place,  and  war  begin!  All  that  was  our  understand- 
ing, and  nothing  but  the  failure  of  Mackenzie’s  guide 
prevented  that  officer  from  executing  his  part  of  the 
program.  Now  and  then,  for  many  years  afterwards, 
the  participants  in  that  expedition  have  talked  with 
each  other  about  the  “Battle  of  Remolino,”  and  we 
believed  as  I have  described  it. 

As  stated,  a battalion  of  the  10th  Infantry  returned 
with  us  to  Fort  Duncan,  and  went  into  camp  out  in  the 
chapparal  behind  the  post.  A General  Court  Martial 
was  convened  and  ready  for  our  return,  and  I was  to 
be  the  Judge  Advocate  of  it.  It  was  my  first  duty  as 
Judge  Advocate  of  a General  Court,  and  I studied  hard 
to  prepare  myself  for  it,  and  I knew  my  duties  well 
before  the  court  met. 

In  those  days  we  had  no  court  stenographer,  so  the 
Judge  Advocate  had  to  do  all  the  work  for  himself,  and 
each  day  the  proceedings  of  the  preceding  day  had  to 
be  on  the  table  ready  for  inspection  by  any  member 
who  might  wish  to  refresh  his  memory,  also  to  see  if 
the  Judge  Advocate  knew  his  business  and  did  it  well. 
This  was  especially  applicable  to  the  case  of  a very 
young  officer,  like  myself,  and  my  patience  was  sorely 
tested  many  times  by  the  request  of  some  officer, 
usually  of  the  10th  Infantry,  “Proceedings,  please.” 

One  officer,  in  particular,  was  given  to  making  that 
request,  and  finally  I broke  loose.  With  a quick 
movement  I shoved  the  papers  towards  him  and  said, 
“Damn  it,  take  the  proceedings.” 


78 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


The  other  man,  a veteran  of  the  Civil  War,  said 
“Mr.  President,  Mr.  President,  the  Judge  Advocate 
swore  at  me.” 

My  answer  was,  “Mr.  President,  I said,  ‘Damn 
it,  take  the  proceedings.’  ” 

The  President  of  the  Court  quietly  said,  “Mr. 
Judge  Advocate,  please  proceed  with  the  business  of 
the  Court,”  and  I did,  without  further  interruption 
or  annoyance  from  any  one. 

On  returning  to  Fort  Duncan  from  our  expedition 
I went  across  the  river  just  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
Brereton  and  I had  been  going  over  frequently  and 
talking  with  a chocolate  man  who  was  keeping  us 
posted  with  the  fortunes  of  one  Arriola,  a Mexican  who 
was  wanted  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  as  frequently 
happened  in  those  days.  When  we  left  for  a trip  up  the 
river  and  then  across  it  with  Mackenzie’s  little  army 
Arriola  had  been  caught  by  the  Mexicans  and  by  them 
condemned  to  death.  The  date  had  been  set  for  his 
killing. 

A day  or  two  after  our  return  Brereton  and  I went 
across  to  see  our  chocolate  man  and  to  learn  what 
had  become  of  Arriola,  so  we  merely  remarked  to  the 
chocolate  man,  “And  so  they  have  killed  Arriola.” 

It  required  a number  of  exchanges  of  words  between 
us  and  the  Mexican  chocolate  man  to  make  him  under- 
stand what  we  were  talking  about  and  then  he  re- 
marked with  much  surprise.  “Why?  Arriola  killed! 
No!  Why  should  they?  Arriola  is  an  officer  in  the 
Mexican  Army  now.” 

That  gave  us  some  sort  of  an  idea  as  to  where  the 
Mexicans  got  some  of  their  officers  from. 

In  those  days,  in  order  to  save  the  Quartermaster 
and  Commissary  of  the  post  much  tedious  work  a 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


79 


“Receiving  Board”  was  detailed  monthly,  to  receive, 
weigh,  measure,  inspect  and  count  all  supplies  received 
at  the  post.  The  Board  consisted  of  three  officers, 
the  junior  to  act  as  recorder  and  do  practically  all  the 
work.  All  supplies  were  shipped  by  wagon  from  San 
Antonio,  the  nearest  railroad  station.  Fuel  and  hay 
were  obtained  from  the  immediate  vicinity  by  con- 
tract. I was  frequently  the  Recorder  of  such  a Board, 
and  was  on  hand  when  the  wagons  arrived  from  San 
Antonio  with  subsistence  stores,  clothing  and  ord- 
nance, or  from  the  neighboring  mesquite  woods  and 
unfenced  pastures  loaded  with  fuel  and  hay. 

I soon  learned  that  the  Mexican  is  an  expert  in 
piling  cord  wood  so  that  a measured  cord  will  not 
contain  a cord  of  wood,  but  will  instead,  contain  and 
conceal  a great  many  vacant  spaces.  This  was 
especially  true  when  more  than  one  row  or  long  pile 
was  to  be  measured.  The  wood  would  be  piled  so 
close  together  that  it  was  impossible  to  examine  the 
inner  faces  of  any  two  rows.  The  entire  quantity 
delivered  would  be  arranged  that  way,  two  rows  close 
together,  two  and  two.  I never  received  at  full 
measurement  any  cord,  but  deducted  from  5 to  15 
per  cent  from  outside  measurements,  usually  10  per 
cent.  I would  sometimes  reject  wagon  loads  of  hay 
because  of  too  much  dirt  in  it.  The  Mexicans  some- 
times cut  their  hay  with  a hoe. 

At  that  time  the  Irish  potato  was  not  included  in 
the  authorized  ration,  but  General  Mackenzie,  being 
very  energetic  and  considerate  of  the  welfare  of  his 
men,  made  arrangements  in  San  Antonio,  and  quite  a 
supply  of  that  vegetable  was  shipped  from  there  to 
Fort  Duncan.  The  Receiving  Board  was  called  upon 
to  receive,  and  when  all  the  good  potatoes  were  gone 


80 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


we  were  required  to  ascertain  the  loss  in  weight,  and 
to  fix  the  responsibility  for  that  loss.  Our  first  deci- 
sion was  right  and  just,  for  we  held  that  no  one  should 
be  made  accountable  for  such  a natural  loss,  but  higher 
authority  insisted  that  some  one  should  pay  for  the 
loss  in  weight  also  for  the  rotten  potatoes.  We  there- 
fore found  General  Mackenzie  accountable,  and 
assessed  the  loss,  or  damage  against  him!  We  never 
heard  officially  from  that  brilliant  decision,  but  Joe 
Dorst,  Mackenzie’s  adjutant,  asked  me  one  day, 
“What  in  the  h — 1 were  you  people  thinking  of?” 

An  incident  occurred  one  night  at  Mike  Wippf’s 
saloon  in  Eagle  Pass  that  taught  me  how  to  wear  a 
pistol  so  as  to  be  able  to  use  it  to  the  best  and  quickest 
advantage.  It  also  showed  me  that  our  Army  way  of 
carrying  it  was  a poor  one. 

There  were  no  electric  lights  in  Eagle  Pass  at  that 
time,  and  as  I entered  the  saloon  about  8.30  p.m.  I 
noticed  a very  strong  but  suppressed  excitement,  and 
special  interest  was  centered  in  a couple  seated  close 
together  and  facing  a comer  not  far  from  the  bar. 
The  two  men  were  seated,  side  by  side,  on  a bench 
without  back  or  side,  and  they  wTere  talking  to  each 
other  most  earnestly  and  with  many  gestures,  espe- 
cially one  of  them,  the  man  on  the  left.  I inquired 
of  some  one  what  it  all  meant,  and  was  told  that  both 
of  these  men  were  “bad,”  both  having  killed  at  least 
one  man,  that  the  man  on  the  left  wanted  to  kill  the 
other  fellow  and  would  surely  try,  if  allowed  any  sort 
of  a chance;  that  the  man  on  the  right  was  just  as 
game  as  the  other  but  he  simply  did  not  want  to  fight 
that  night  and  that  his  advantage  in  position  enabled 
him  to  control  the  situation. 

This  control  of  the  situation  was  given  by  the  differ- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


81 


ent  manner  in  which  the  two  men  wore,  or  carried 
their  revolvers.  Their  backs  were  towards  us,  as  they 
faced  a corner  of  the  room.  The  man  on  the  left — as 
we  saw  them — had  his  revolver  on  his  left  side,  with 
grip,  or  handle  to  the  front,  making  it  difficult  to 
reach  with  his  right  hand.  While  the  man  on  his 
right  had  his  pistol  on  his  right  hip,  with  grip  to  the 
rear,  a most  easy  and  natural  position,  and  making 
the  pistol  easy  to  quickly  grasp  with  the  right  hand, 
forefinger  on  the  trigger. 

The  man  on  the  left  used  very  extravagant  gestures, 
and  I was  told  that  he  was  trying  to  get  his  right  hand 
over  to  his  left  side  where  his  revolver  was,  and  my 
attention  was  invited  to  how  the  other  man  answered 
every  such  demonstration  by  quickly  and  quietly 
keeping  his  right  hand  always  in  an  inch  or  two  of  his 
pistol  grip,  with  muzzle  between  his  legs.  A fight 
with  anything  like  even  chances  was  evidently 
impossible. 

They  rose  to  take  a drink.  We  moved  to  one  side. 
The  two  men  walked  up  to  the  bar  and  got  their 
drinks,  remaining  in  the  same  relative  positions  and 
holding  their  glasses  in  their  left  hands. 

They  walked  out  into  the  dark  street,  still  in  the 
same  relative  position,  and  an  hour  later  I saw  those 
two  men  seated  in  the  dark  on  the  front  step  of  some 
man’s  house,  very  silent,  and  the  wise  man  still 
retaining  his  original  advantage  in  position  and 
manner  of  carrying  his  revolver. 

Some  years  later  I described  that  incident  in  one  of 
our  service  journals,  and  argued  from  it  that  we  ought 
to  wear  our  revolvers  in  the  same  manner  that  the 
man  on  the  right  wore  his.  The  only  attention 
attracted  was  that  of  an  old  ordnance  sergeant,  who 


82 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


replied  in  a few  words,  merely  explaining  how  the 
existing  regulations  required  us  to  wear  our  revolvers. 

Many  years  later  the  change  came,  and  we  finally 
directed  our  people  to  wear  pistols  in  the  manner  I had 
recommended,  just  as  most  cowboys  and  frontiersmen 
had  been  doing  for  more  than  20  years.  Our  Ordnance 
Department  is  very  conservative. 

As  previously  explained,  my  regimental  commander, 
Col.  Shafter  was,  in  spite  of  his  great  size  and  weight, 
a very  energetic  man.  He  was  fond  of  hunting  and 
I was  made  glad  of  it,  for  he  took  me  with  him  on  a fine 
hunt  in  the  fall  of  1878.  He  took  also  Dr.  Harmer,  a 
contract  surgeon,  and  better  still  he  carried  with  him 
into  the  field  the  best  field  cook  in  the  24th  Infantry,  a 
company  musician  named  Henry  Briscoe  who  spent 
much  of  his  time  in  the  guard  house  because  of  strong 
drink. 

We  had  an  escort  wagon  and  several  men,  including 
Briscoe.  Col.  Shafter,  Dr.  Harmer  and  I rode  in  the 
old  Daugherty  wagon  which  we  then  considered  a 
fine  vehicle  for  the  frontier.  We  travelled  towards 
the  Nueces  River,  and  about  25  or  30  miles  from  the 
post  we  saw  the  fresh  hide  of  a jaguar  in  a man’s  yard, 
hung  out  to  dry.  Shafter  promptly  stopped  the 
wagon,  and  we  went  in  the  yard  and  interviewed  the 
ranchman.  We  learned  that  only  the  day  before  he 
had,  with  the  assistance  of  his  half  dozen  dogs,  trailed 
and  treed  and  killed  the  big  animal. 

Shafter  pleaded  with  the  man  to  go  out  again  and 
take  us  along.  The  fellow  said  that  he  had  no  objec- 
tion, but  did  not  see  how  he  could.  “Look  at  my 
dogs’  feet.  They  can’t  run  now,”  he  added  in  explana- 
tion. We  examined  the  feet  of  all  the  dogs,  and  then 
we  understood  well  enough.  The  dogs  lay  scattered 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


83 


here  and  there  in  the  shade,  and  lazily  allowed  us  to 
pick  up  a foot  and  look.  Their  feet  were  all  more  or 
less  raw,  the  padding  cut  and  torn  and  the  outer  cov- 
ering rubbed  off,  toe  nails  more  or  less  loosened,  and 
here  and  there  a nail  missing.  We  had  to  give  up 
the  idea  of  a jaguar  hunt.  “Some  other  day,”  the  Col. 
said,  and  on  we  drove  to  a crossing  of  the  Nueces  River 
near  an  old  bed  of  the  river  called  “Lake  Espantosa.” 

At  one  camp  en  route  I had  the  good  luck  to  kill 
two  more  turkeys  at  one  shot  with  a rifle,  and  this 
time  I did  not  even  see  the  second  turkey  when  I fired 
my  “Officers’  Model,  Springfield  Rifle”  which  I had 
bought  from  the  Ordnance  Department.  We  also 
bagged  some  quail,  which  our  cook  Briscoe  prepared 
for  us  in  a very  appetizing  manner. 

We  went  into  camp  on  the  Nueces  River  about  mid- 
day on  the  third  day,  and  amused  ourselves  shooting 
till  the  arrival  of  Briscoe  and  the  escort  wagon.  Col. 
Shafter  said,  “Put  a hole  in  that  cactus  leaf  and  we 
will  shoot  at  the  hole.”  We  soon  spoiled  the  cactus 
leaf,  making  a bigger  hole  and  several  more.  Finally 
the  Colonel  said,  “Now  watch  me  cut  off  that  twig,” 
pointing  at  a bright,  slender  and  very  straight  twig 
some  ten  or  fifteen  yards  distant.  He  fired  and  cut  off 
the  twig,  clean.  “Now,  what  will  you  do?  ” he  asked, 
as  he  handed  me  the  rifle. 

I replied,  “ My  shot  is  not  so  hard  to  make  as  yours 
was,  for  the  twig  is  bigger  where  I have  to  aim.”  And 
I,  too,  cut  off  the  twig,  six  inches  lower  down. 

Shafter  looked  around  camp  for  another  target,  and 
saw  a half  grown  hog  rooting  up  the  ground  in  camp. 

“See  me  cut  off  that  pig’s  tail,”  he  said,  and  taking 
careful  aim  he  fired,  and  the  pig  ran  away,  squealing 
and  with  tail  hanging  by  a thread  of  skin.  Then  we 


84 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


stopped  shooting,  not  wishing  to  spoil  a good  record. 

The  wagon  arrived  in  time  for  the  men  to  see  the 
latter  part  of  our  shooting.  We  soon  had  a good 
square  meal,  but  had  to  remain  in  camp  until  after  a 
drizzling  rain  had  stopped.  About  3 o’clock  we  went 
hunting  in  different  directions.  I killed  all  I saw  to 
shoot  at.  I was  standing  in  a good  place  to  avoid  rain 
water  dropping  from  the  leaves,  and  I saw  my  second 
ocelot  coming  stealthily  along,  almost  towards  me. 
My  first  ocelot,  killed  on  my  previous  visit  to  the 
Nueces  River,  with  Hatfield,  had  run  out  of  a hollow 
log,  or  tree,  when  I shot  a “coon,”  but  this  one  came 
along  in  comparatively  open  ground  and  did  not 
see  me  till  I raised  my  rifle  to  my  shoulder.  One  shot 
was  sufficient. 

Now,  here’s  what  happened  in  our  camp  while 
Colonel  Shafter  and  I were  absent. 

The  soldier  teamster  was  cleaning  his  rifle  after  the 
rain,  talking  as  he  worked,  and  proud  of  his  own  skill 
with  the  rifle.  Dr.  Harmer  lay  on  his  bed  in  easy 
hearing,  and  many  months  afterwards  he  told  me  the 
following  story. 

The  teamster  finally  grew  boastful  about  his  shoot- 
ing. Talking  to  Briscoe  he  said,  “The  Colonel  and 
the  young  lieutenant,  they  musn’t  think  that  nobody 
kin  shoot  but  them.  I kin  cut  off  a hog’s  tail,  too,  you 
see  if  I don’t.  Jes  look  at  that  shoat  there,  and  watch 
its  tail  drap.”  And  the  teamster  took,  as  he  thought, 
a good  aim  and  fired.  The  poor  hog  fell,  and  began 
crawling  off  with  a broken  hip,  and  making  a loud 
noise  squealing. 

The  teamster  was  very  much  frightened,  and  ran 
after  the  hog,  yelling,  “Now  stop  that  squealing,  the 
Colonel  will  hear  you,  stop  it,  I tell  you.  I’ll  kill  you 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


85 


if  you  don’t.”  And  with  an  ax  he  killed  the  hog,  and 
dragging  it  out  into  the  bushes  he  buried  the  victim  of 
his  poor  shooting,  and  then  begged  Dr.  Harmer  to  say 
nothing  about  the  matter.  The  Doctor  kept  his 
promise  till  after  the  departure  of  Col.  Shafter,  six 
months  later,  when  he  was  promoted  to  Colonel  of  the 
1st  Infantry. 

We  had  several  days’  good  hunting  on  that  outing, 
bagging  8 or  10  turkeys,  some  ducks  and  quail,  and 
then  we  returned  to  the  post. 

Col.  Shafter  had  his  own  ideas  about  the  adminis- 
tration of  a post  and  always  showed  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  what  was  going  on.  One  day  I marched 
on  as  Officer  of  the  Day,  and  reported  to  him  for  orders. 
We  were  standing  on  the  portico  of  the  old  building 
then  used  as  the  Commanding  Officer’s  Office,  facing 
towards  the  Rio  Grande.  The  Colonel  pointed  to 
some  piles  of  mesquite  cord  wood,  and  to  some  soldiers 
standing  and  sitting  near  the  cord  wood,  and  said, 
“Don’t  disturb  those  men,  they  are  gambling,  and 
don’t  allow  any  civilians  to  join  the  game  or  even  to 
look  on.”  He  added  other  instructions  relative  to 
keeping  good  order  among  the  men. 

I carried  out  his  instructions,  and  I have  many 
times  given  my  own  Officer  of  the  Day  similar  orders 
and  always  with  good  results. 

During  that  winter  I killed  my  first  deer,  and  in 
doing  so  I took  a mean,  sneaking  advantage  of  the 
poor  thing.  Lieut.  Henry  Wygant  had  recently 
joined  from  Fort  Ringgold  where  he  had  killed  a 
number  of  deer,  and  he  frequently  requested  me  to  go 
with  him  hunting,  claiming  that  he  had  a method  of 
calling  up  a buck  to  within  easy  range.  His  plan 
was  as  follows: 


86 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


The  time  being  then  late  in  November,  or  early  in 
December,  the  deer  were  running,  or  mating,  and 
Wygant  claimed  that  by  hiding  in  a good  place  and 
rattling  together  a pair  of  good  antlers  he  could 
imitate  the  sounds  made  by  two  bucks  fighting  and 
trying  to  break  each  other’s  horns,  and  that  a buck 
hearing  the  noise  would  come  closer  to  investigate 
in  the  belief  that  two  other  bucks  were  fighting  over  a 
doe,  and  that  he  could  easily  steal  the  doe  while  the 
others  were  busy.  Wygant  said  that  he  had  a good 
pair  of  antlers,  and  was  very  anxious  to  prove  to  me 
that  he  was  not  in  jest. 

So,  one  day  we  mounted  two  old  horses  from  the 
Quartermaster’s  corral,  and  rode  seven  or  eight  miles 
out  into  the  country  away  from  the  river,  and  we  made 
many  unsuccessful  attempts  to  deceive  the  wary  buck 
into  coming  after  his  doe.  There  were  plenty  of  deer 
there,  for  we  saw  quite  a number,  but  apparently 
bucks  were  scarce,  and  it  seemed  as  if  Wygant  would 
not  be  able  to  illustrate  his  easy  way  of  getting  a shot 
at  a buck. 

Finally  we  found  a beautiful  spot  where  we  could 
hide  ourselves  and  rattle  the  antlers,  and  while 
Wygant  made  the  noise  I watched  for  our  buck,  and 
to  my  great  astonishment  one  came  and  gave  me  an 
easy  shot  with  my  good  rifle.  I had  no  buck  fever, 
and  one  shot  was  enough.  Leaving  Wygant  to  draw 
the  dead  deer  I went  back  about  a mile  and  a half  for 
our  horses  which  we  had  left  tied  to  a tree.  On  my 
way  back  to  where  I had  left  Wygant  I heard  five  or 
six  shots  fired  in  rapid  succession,  and  I increased  my 
speed,  fearing  that  my  comrade  had  been  attacked  by 
Indians.  I found  him  standing  by  another  dead  deer. 

After  finishing  with  my  deer  Wygant  began  to 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


87 


while  away  the  time  by  rattling  the  antlers  again,  and 
not  being  able  to  keep  a good  look  out  at  the  same 
time,  he  was  almost  run  over  by  a big  buck,  and  had 
several  good  shots  at  the  animal,  which  was  hard  to 
convince  that  no  doe  was  there. 

These  two  bucks  were  as  large  as  any  white  tail  deer 
I ever  saw,  and  we  had  no  way  to  tie  them  to  our  old 
quartermaster’s  saddles,  and  this  made  us  ride  back  to 
the  post  and  return  the  next  day  for  our  game. 

We  undoubtedly  had  good  luck  that  time,  for  I have 
many  times  since  then  tried  to  call  up  a buck  by  rat- 
tling antlers,  and  always  with  no  success.  The  neces- 
sary combination  seems  to  be;  the  right  time  of  day, 
the  right  time  of  the  year,  a good  hiding  place,  a buck 
within  hearing,  and  then  rattle  the  antlers  correctly. 
It  is  now  forbidden  by  law  to  use  the  antlers  as 
described  and  for  the  purposes  explained. 

In  addition  to  being  a good  game  shot  I was  always 
greatly  interested  in  target  practice,  and  in  April,  1878, 
I was  sent  to  San  Antonio  with  the  company  and  troop 
representatives  from  Forts  Clark  and  Duncan  to  report 
them  to  Capt.  Livermore,  of  the  Engineers,  for  partic- 
ipation in  the  first  Department  Rifle  Competition 
ever  held  in  Texas.  I had  to  go  to  Fort  Clark  for  the 
best  shots  there,  taking  with  me  those  from  Duncan, 
and  being  furnished  with  a horse  to  ride  I was  very 
comfortable,  and  enjoyed  the  trip  very  much,  espe- 
cially because  it  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  make  a 
short  visit  to  my  home  at  Independence,  Texas. 

At  that  time  the  Department  Headquarters  were 
located  in  the  building  now  called  “The  Maverick 
Hotel,”  and  Fort  San  Houston  was  just  begun. 

In  returning  alone  to  my  post,  horseback,  I stopped 
the  first  night  at  Castroville,  and  went  to  old  Tarde’s 


88 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


hotel.  The  old  man  had  been  a soldier  with  Marshal 
Soult  in  Spain,  and  in  addition  he  provided  an  excellent 
table,  and  was  especially  noted  for  his  fine  venison. 
I enjoyed  very  much  the  old  man’s  stories,  and  I 
learned  that  what  I had  heard  of  Tarde’s  venison  was 
true.  That  night  I received  a telegram  from  Col. 
Shafter  directing  me  to  return  to  Fort  Duncan  direct, 
and  not  by  way  of  Fort  Clark.  It  was  lucky  for  me 
that  Jim  Riddle,  the  biggest  merchant  in  Eagle  Pass, 
arrived  at  Tarde’s  the  same  night  I did,  en  route  for 
his  home,  for  it  enabled  me  to  camp  with  him  each 
night  on  the  road,  and  he  also  fed  me  and  my  horse 
the  entire  trip.  I enjoyed  very  much  my  ride  back  to 
Fort  Duncan,  thanks  to  Mr.  Riddle. 

Conditions  on  the  border  sometimes  gave  us  some 
disagreeable  duties  to  perform.  While  our  orders 
forbade  us  to  join  a posse  comitatus,  or  to  comply  with 
appeals  for  assistance  made  by  state  and  city  authori- 
ties, unless  each  time  ordered  by  the  President,  we 
sometimes  made  big  bluffs  in  the  interest  of  law  and 
order. 

In  the  spring  of  1879  I was  sent  towards  the  Nueces 
River  with  a detachment  of  Troop  “E”  4th  Cavalry, 
accompanied  by  a deputy  sheriff  named  A1  Roberts, 
and  guided  by  a former  Army  Officer,  with  orders 
from  my  post  commander  to  protect  the  peace  officer 
in  the  proper  discharge  of  his  duty.  In  case  of  any 
trouble  it  is  hard  to  see  how  I could  escape  laying  my- 
self liable  to  civil  suit,  but  I went,  and  did  my  best. 

We  started  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  while  march- 
ing across  country,  following  no  road  or  trail,  we  were 
caught  in  a heavy  rain  storm,  and  night  coming  on 
we  lost  a pack  mule  and  had  to  stop  and  go  into  camp 
immediately,  all  of  us  wet  and  hungry.  The  ex-army 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


89 


officer  had  a bottle  of  mescal,  a liquor  made  by  Mexi- 
cans from  the  fermented  and  distilled  juice  of  the 
maguey  plant,  and  a strong  drink  of  it  made  us  warm 
and  kept  us  from  catching  cold.  The  next  morning 
we  caught  our  pack  mule  and  continued  straight  across 
country,  and  at  just  about  the  right  time  and  place 
to  go  into  camp  we  saw  a deer  not  far  from  a good 
camp  site. 

I put  my  men  in  camp,  borrowed  a carbine  and  went 
after  the  deer.  In  those  days  our  bacon  was  very 
fat,  and  I did  not  like  it,  and  that  made  me  especially 
desirous  of  getting  some  game  for  our  mess.  We 
messed  with  the  detachment,  which  made  the  soldiers 
wish  for  my  good  luck. 

My  deer  was  very  restless  and  kept  moving  about, 
making  it  hard  for  me  to  get  close  enough  to  shoot  it. 
While  crawling  along  on  my  hands  and  knees,  with  a 
carbine  in  my  right  hand,  I was  about  to  put  the 
muzzle  of  the  gun  on  a large  rattlesnake  which 
was  coiled  up  and  looking  at  me  in  utter  silence, 
making  no  motion  except  with  his  tongue  which  he 
moved  very  fast. 

The  snake’s  head  was  several  inches  above  the  coil 
and  within  striking  distance  of  me.  I quickly 
straightened  myself  to  a kneeling  position,  located  the 
snake  with  reference  to  other  objects  and  went  on 
after  my  deer.  I soon  got  a shot,  aimed  carefully 
at  the  heart  and  broke  the  animal’s  neck,  a poor  but 
very  lucky  shot.  I then  went  for  the  rattler,  and 
easily  killed  it.  As  soon  as  I fired  my  one  shot  I 
heard  a regular  school  boy  call  from  camp.  From  the 
sound  I knew  that  I was  asked  “What  luck?”  and  I 
hastened  to  give  the  answering  call  which  meant, 
‘‘All  right.”  No  word  was  spoken,  no  spoken  word 


90 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


could  have  been  heard  at  such  a distance,  but  two 
soldiers  immediately  came  running  from  camp. 

The  men  skinned  the  snake  and  found  in  it  a small 
rabbit,  and  that  accounted  for  the  reptile’s  being  so 
quiet  and  peaceful.  The  venison  was  fine,  and  was 
highly  appreciated  by  all. 

The  next  day  we  continued  our  march  after  out- 
laws whom  the  deputy  sheriff  had  warrants  to  arrest. 
In  one  cf  our  efforts  to  catch  somebody  we  sneaked 
around  through  the  bushes  and  quickly  surrounded  a 
small  cabin.  We  found  within  that  little  house  nine 
women,  and  not  a single  man! 

So,  on  we  went,  being  now  in  search  of  a man 
named  Woods.  He,  too,  was  not  at  home,  and  finally, 
having  made  unsuccessful  search  and  effort  to  catch 
each  man  we  were  sent  to  protect  the  sheriff  in  arrest- 
ing, we  started  home.  At  our  first  camp  en  route  to 
Fort  Duncan  our  man  Woods  joined  us,  and  said  that 
he  had  heard  that  we  wanted  him,  and  that  he  had  no 
objection  to  going  with  us. 

During  our  two  or  three  days  on  the  road  home  I 
saw  a great  deal  of  the  young  man,  for  we  made  a 
companion  of  him  and  not  a prisoner,  while  en  route. 
He  was  one  of  the  most  attractive  young  desperados 
that  I ever  saw,  being  very  handsome  and  strongly 
built,  besides  being  very  bright  and  cheerful  in 
conversation,  and  fearless  with  it  all.  In  addition,  I 
learned  that  he  was  the  man  that  I had  seen  that  night 
at  Mike  Wippf’s  saloon,  sitting  on  the  right  of  the 
other  man  and  with  his  revolver  on  his  right  hip,  ready 
for  quick  action.  We  took  him  to  Eagle  Pass,  and 
there  the  Deputy  Sheriff,  A1  Roberts,  took  charge  of 
him  and  put  him  in  jail. 

Then  Roberts  went  to  the  hospital,  with  small  pox. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


91 


I had  been  sleeping  with  him  for  several  nights,  on 
account  of  cool  weather  and  his  lack  of  bedding,  but 
I had  seen  so  much  of  small  pox  on  the  Rio  Grande 
that  I was  not  uneasy. 

In  the  very  beginning  of  my  service  I took  a firm 
stand  regarding  the  use  of  alcoholic  stimilant  and 
cards  in  gambling.  While  at  West  Point  I was  under 
a written  pledge  which  I gave  my  mother  before  leav- 
ing home,  all  without  one  word  from  her. 

After  arriving  at  my  first  station  I was  soon  invited 
to  take  a social  glass,  also  to  take  a hand  at  the  game 
of  poker.  Having  made  up  my  mind,  and  feeling  sure 
that  I was  right,  I had  no  difficulty  in  politely  declin- 
ing to  do  either,  and  it  did  not  take  long  for  my 
comrades  to  understand  that  it  was  useless  to  suggest 
to  me  either  kind  of  amusement  and  dissipation. 

Even  when  I was  promoted  to  first  lieutenant,  and 
when  I was  frequently  asked  if  I wasn’t  going  to 
“wet”  my  bar,  I unhesitatingly  answered,  “No.” 
When  an  old  captain  thought  that  a strange  line  of 
conduct  I bought  him  a bottle  of  whiskey  to  drink 
for  me,  and  I furnished  a first  lieutenant  with  a bottle 
of  wine  for  the  same  purpose. 

Even  when  foreign  officers  came  along  it  made 
no  difference  with  me.  One  day,  in  Piedras  Negras,  a 
Mexican  officer  didn’t  like  it  one  bit  that  I wouldn’t 
drink  a glass  with  him.  It  was  only  claret,  but  it 
contained  alcohol. 

I have  always  applauded  myself  for  my  attitude 
regarding  drink  and  gambling,  and  I have  noticed 
that  my  sobriety,  and  freedom  from  cards, . were 
soon  my  best  recommendations,  and  I have  always 
thought  better  of  a young  officer  who  would  not  drink 
or  gamble. 


92 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I was  promoted  to  1st  Lieutenant  on  the  20th  of 
March,  1879,  to  fill  a vacancy  in  Company  “C,”  at 
Fort  Ringgold,  Texas,  made  by  the  transfer  of  Johnnie 
Clem  to  the  Quartermaster’s  Department. 

While  I served  at  Fort  Duncan  much  of  the 
time,  I was  company  commander,  was  out  with  the 
cavalry  several  times,  and  commanded  a troop  for  a 
month  or  more.  I had  also  been  given  very  valuable 
experience  as  Judge  Advocate  of  General  Courts 
Martial.  I was  in  Mexico  with  Mackenzie,  had 
served  under  Shafter,  and  all  told,  I considered  then, 
and  I have  not  changed  my  mind  about  it,  that  dur- 
ing my  service  at  Duncan  I had  received  very  valuable 
instruction. 

Early  in  1879,  and  before  either  Shafter  or  I had 
been  promoted  and  sent  away  from  Duncan,  the 
Adjutancy  of  the  24th  Infantry  being  made  vacant 
by  the  death  of  Helenus  Dodt,  he  told  me  that  in  spite 
of  my  short  service  he  would  appoint  me  to  that  office 
but  for  the  fact  that  by  doing  so  he  would  keep  the 
senior  second  lieutenant  out  of  his  promotion.  Under 
the  old  order  of  things  a second  lieutenant,  while 
filling  a vacancy  as  regimental  adjutant  diminished 
by  one  the  number  of  first  lieutenants  allowed  a 
regiment.  It  was  unjust  to  create  such  a condition, 
but  it  was  done  in  some  regiments. 

While  serving  at  Duncan  I met  many  Mexican 
officers,  and  the  wives  of  some  of  them.  I don’t 
believe  that  they  were  as  much  married  as  we  were. 
We  and  our  wives  were  invited  to  dances  given  by 
Mexican  officers,  and  we  invited  the  Mexican  officers 
and  their  wives  to  our  dances.  Mexican  men  were 
slow  to  learn  our  way  of  dancing,  but  their  girls 
were  quick  enough,  and  became  very  fond  of  American 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


93 


waltzes  and  two  steps.  On  both  sides  of  the  river  we 
frequently  danced  the  Mexican  “danza.” 

We  never  see  the  “danza”  danced  now,  on  our  side 
of  the  river.  Our  relations  with  each  other,  both 
personal  and  official,  were  friendly  and  cordial,  and 
there  were  then  no  raids  to  disturb  us  and  interrupt 
such  relations,  even  our  expedition  into  Mexico 
apparently  being  forgotten  in  a week.  We  had  very 
few  soldiers  along  the  border,  yet,  for  a great  many 
years  no  Mexican  dared  to  cross  it  in  hostility,  and  in 
the  interior  of  Mexico  our  people  were  treated  very 
kindly.  Evidently  the  Mexicans  had  a very  whole- 
some respect  for  our  flag  and  our  people,  and  this 
condition,  which  did  not  contemplate  any  prepared- 
ness to  resist  a sudden  attack  on  our  bank  of  the  river, 
lasted  until  about  1910  or  1911,  when  our  people  were 
given,  by  our  President,  to  understand  that  they  could 
come  out  of  Mexico  if  they  didn’t  like  it  there.  The 
following  incidents  will  show  a condition  then,  which 
does  not  exist  now. 

One  day  Lieutenant  W.  H.  W.  James,  24th  Infantry 
and  I went  across  the  river  at  the  old  ferry,  using  his 
buggy,  and  we  drove  inland  several  miles  to  a small 
pond  that  we  knew  of.  He  carried  a shot  gun,  and  I 
took  along  my  good  rifle.  On  arriving  at  the  edge 
of  the  water  I saw  a big  panther  about  75  yards  away, 
but  having  to  dismount  because  of  the  horse  being 
skittish,  I was  too  late  and  thus  lost  my  only  chance 
to  kill  a panther.  That  same  day  I killed  several 
ducks  with  my  rifle,  and  I would  not  have  missed  a 
big  animal.  We  were  in  our  uniforms,  and  no  notice 
was  taken  of  us. 

Among  the  Mexicans  that  I knew  while  stationed 
at  Duncan  by  far  the  most  important  was  General 


94 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Geronimo  Trevino,  a high  up  major  general  in  their 
army.  One  day  I carried  him  a letter  from  Col. 
Shatter,  and  while  I was  talking  with  Trevino  in  his 
office  a Mexican  entered  the  room  and  informed  him 
that  an  old  captive  Indian  woman  had  just  killed  her- 
self out  in  the  “patio.”  We  went  out  to  see  and  we 
found  in  the  square  yard  in  the  middle  of  the  house, 
where  captives  were  kept,  a poor,  wretched  looking  old 
woman  lying  on  the  ground  and  dying  from  a wound 
inflicted  with  the  rustiest  and  bluntest  looking  knife 
imaginable.  Lots  of  patient  and  persistent  shoving 
must  have  been  required,  to  make  that  old  blade 
enter  the  body.  General  Trevino  was  cordiality 
itself,  then  and  on  other  occasions  when  I have  seen 
him. 

General  Trevino  was  at  that  time  in  command  of 
all  the  northeastern  part  of  Mexico,  but,  according  to 
rumor,  he  should  have  been  President  of  Mexico  soon 
after. 

It  is  said  that  during  the  campaign  which  resulted 
in  the  downfall  and  execution  of  Maximillian  the  three 
prominent  Mexican  generals,  Porfirio  Diaz,  Gonzalez 
and  Trevino  agreed  among  themselves  that  they 
would  alternate  in  being  president  of  Mexico,  leaving 
out  of  the  bargain  Escobedo,  who  was  as  big  as  either 
of  them.  According  to  the  agreement  it  should  be 
Diaz  first,  then  Gonzalez,  and  Trevino  last.  And  so 
it  worked  out,  except  that  when  the  term  of  Gonzalez 
was  nearly  completed  Diaz  stepped  in  and  resumed 
his  reign.  It  was  a dirty  trick. 

On  another  occasion,  Lieutenant  Donovan,  24th 
Inf.,  and  I rode  across  the  river  at  Eagle  Pass  and 
went  on  to  the  village  of  Villita,  on  the  Riito  (Little 
town,  on  Little  River),  and  stopping  at  what  appeared 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


95 


to  be  a small  hotel  we  asked  for  something  to  eat,  it 
being  then  about  mid-day.  We  were  invited  in  and 
were  given  places  at  the  table,  and  plenty  of  food  was 
put  before  us,  but  no  one  had  a knife,  not  even  the 
Mexicans  who  were  already  seated.  We  began  our 
meal.  I noticed  that  the  Mexicans  were  folding  their 
tortillas  (thin  corn  cakes)  so  as  to  serve  the  purpose 
of  both  fork  and  spoon,  and  I proceeded  to  do  as  the 
Mexicans  did.  I did  not  intend  to  ask  for  a knife,  but 
Donovan  did,  and  when  he  did  so  each  Mexican  at 
that  table,  quickly  handed  him  a knife,  from  his  belt 
or  from  his  pocket.  Donovan  accepted  a knife  from 
some  one,  and  we  finished  our  meal  in  the  utmost 
cordialty.  En  route  home,  after  dinner,  I rode  a 
horse  race  with  a Mexican  boy,  although  I was  riding 
Chaplain  Laverty’s  horse.  When  I told  him  how  I 
had  won  the  race  he  seemed  greatly  pleased. 


CHAPTER  IV 


My  promotion  to  first  lieutenant  was  dated  April 
21,  1879,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  July  I was  started 
down  the  river  to  my  new  station,  Fort  Ringgold, 
Texas,  but  before  beginning  that  march  I will  tell  an 
incident  which  happened  on  one  of  my  trips  to  the 
Nueces,  the  time  I was  out  with  Hatfield. 

On  our  road  back,  I was  off  by  myself  hunting, 
and  saw  a rattlesnake  about  four  feet  long.  That 
was  long  enough  for  me  to  want  his  rattles,  so  I 
started  after  him  and  tried  to  catch  him  before  he 
could  reach  a prairie  dog  hole  towards  which  he  was 
running. 

I had  my  six  shooter,  but  I didn’t  want  to  waste  a 
shot  at  a snake,  and  as  the  snake  was  nearly  in  the 
hole  I caught  the  end  of  his  tail  and  stopped  him. 
The  snake  pulled  and  I pulled;  we  both  pulled  hard, 
and  for  a short  while  neither  of  us  made  any  progress. 
At  last  the  rattlesnake  let  go  his  hold  suddenly,  and 
the  hard  pulling  and  sudden  loosening  caused  me  to 
fall  back  on  the  ground,  on  my  back,  without  at  first 
letting  go  the  snake’s  tail. 

But,  my  wits  worked  fast,  and  as  I fell  back, 
straightening  out  on  the  ground,  with  stiff  arm  I threw 
that  big  rattler  at  least  thirty  yards  to  my  rear, 
and  again  I went  after  him. 

But,  I had  no  longer  any  objection  to  using  my  six 
96 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


97 


shooter,  and  I hastened  to  do  it.  Now,  that  snake 
didn’t  make  that  hole,  neither  did  he  live  in  it  with 
rabbits  and  prairie  dogs  and  small  owls,  as  I have 
read,  somewhere. 

The  prairie  dog  digs  the  hole  and  lives  in  it  till  a 
rattlesnake  takes  a liking  for  the  hole.  Then  the 
pnzrie  dog  leaves,  if  he  has  time,  and  sometimes  he 
ge^s  even  with  the  rattlesnake  by  quickly  filling  in 
the  mouth  of  the  hole,  thus  burying  the  snake  alive. 
I have  been  told  by  Comanche  Indians  that  this 
burying  alive  sometimes  happens,  and  I have  seen 
several  prairie  dog  holes  that  had  been  filled  in  by  the 
paws  of  small  animals. 

I am  also  certain  that  the  little  owl  does  not  live 
with  the  prairie  dog,  never  having  seen  an  owl  living  in 
any  but  some  old  abandoned  hole. 

But,  I have  seen  the  cotton  tail  rabbit  run  into 
a fresh  looking  prairie  dog  hole  which  appeared  to  be 
still  inhabited  by  its  builder.  Perhaps  the  rabbit 
was  merely  seeking  a temporary  hiding  place. 

In  my  change  of  station  to  Fort  Ringgold  I had 
an  ambulance  and  an  escort  wagon,  also  a hospital 
steward  and  about  a dozen  recruits  for  Forts  McIntosh 
and  Ringgold.  The  steward  was  very  anxious  that 
I should  take  along,  among  the  medical  supplies,  a 
bottle  of  whiskey  for  snake  bites  and  other  forms  of 
sickness.  Although  he  appeared  to  be  in  great  need 
of  another  drink,  I didn’t  get  any  for  our  trip.  He 
got  well  without  it. 

We  went  down  the  old  military  road,  and  arrived  at 
Fort  McIntosh  on  July  3rd.  The  next  day,  with 
some  other  young  officers  and  with  some  girls  from 
the  post  and  the  town  of  Laredo  we  danced  from 
about  3 o’clock  p.m.  till  midnight,  down  in  the  shade 


98 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


close  to  the  river,  using  a tarpaulin  stretched  over  the 
ground  as  a floor.  So  far  as  I know,  our  dance  made 
no  one  sick. 

I hunted  several  times  from  my  camping  place  on 
the  road  to  Ringgold,  but  my  luck  was  bad.  How- 
ever, on  one  occasion,  my  men  had  some  delicious 
fresh  meat  for  me,  and  they  said  it  was  deer.  I 
doubted  it,  but  the  meat  tasted  so  well  that  I did 
not  investigate  the  matter. 

I found  Ringgold  the  hottest  place  I had  ever  seen, 
up  to  date,  but  we  managed  to  exist  and  to  enjoy 
ourselves.  There  I saw  my  first  ice  cream  on  the 
Rio  Grande.  It  was  fine. 

My  classmate,  A.  A.  Augur,  was  second  lieutenant 
of  my  new  company  (“C”),  but  he  was  most  of  the 
time  Post  Quartermaster,  and  a fine  one. 

After  the  first  six  months  my  commanding  officer 
was  Col.  “Beau”  Neill,  who  had  been  commandant 
of  cadets  my  last  two  years  at  West  Point. 

From  Fort  Ringgold  I took  my  first  leave  of  absence, 
and  was  gone  three  months,  going  via  San  Antonio  and 
my  home,  Independence,  Texas.  The  trip  to  the 
first  named  place  was  by  stage,  and  was  300  miles  long. 
I had  for  a companion  on  the  stage  Lieut.  George 
Albee,  then  recently  retired  from  the  24th  Infantry. 
After  leaving  active  service  Albee  obtained  employ- 
ment with  the  Winchester  Small  Arms  Company,  and 
had  risen  to  high  position  in  it,  and  he  was  then 
travelling  for  the  Company,  visiting  the  various 
frontier  posts.  He  was  a very  interesting  man. 

I stopped  over  24  hours  at  Fort  McIntosh  to  see 
again  Lieut.  Chas.  Dodge,  24th  Infantry,  and  in  this 
way  I broke  my  long  stage  ride. 

I stayed  a few  days  at  home  with  my  family,  and 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


99 


my  old  friends,  and  then  I went  on  to  Washington, 
putting  up  at  the  Ebbit  House  where  I saw  many  old 
friends  and  made  some  new  ones.  That  winter  was 
long  remembered  in  Washington  because  of  the  lively 
times  caused  by  so  many  young  army  and  navy 
officers.  I was  there  five  weeks,  and  found  there  my 
classmates  Barry,  Patch,  Mann,  and  Eggleston,  also 
Pitcher,  Buttler,  Evans  and  Cherry,  of  previous 
classes.  There  were  lots  of  others,  and  we  had  a fine 
time,  no  one  having  a more  enjoyable  time  than  I did. 
A young  officer’s  first  leave  of  absence  is  very  apt  to 
be  his  most  enjoyable  one.  He  will  never  again  have 
so  great  a capacity  for  enjoyment.  I enjoyed  myself 
all  the  more  because  of  being  there  for  no  other  pur- 
pose, which  was  not  the  case  with  most  of  the  others. 

While  in  Washington  I saw  my  captain  for  the 
first  time.  He  treated  me  with  great  consideration 
and  kindness.  He  afterwards  rose  to  high  rank  and 
distinction,  being  Adjutant  General  of  the  Army 
during  the  Spanish  War.  I always  liked  Henry  C. 
Corbin.  I also  enjoyed  very  much  being  again  with 
my  old  roommate  Patch,  who  had  lost  one  foot  in  the 
Indian  Territory  while  serving  in  the  4th  Cavalry. 
He  pleased  his  regimental  commander,  Ranald  S. 
Mackenzie,  so  much  that  he  was  appointed  regimental 
quartermaster  and  held  the  position  till  1890  when 
examinations  for  promotion  put  him  on  the  retired 
list.  Patch  must  have  been  a fine  officer  to  have 
made  such  an  impression  on  Mackenzie,  and  his  sons 
have  been  travelling  the  same  road. 

I returned  to  my  post  March  19,  1880,  via  San 
Antonio,  and  again  I took  that  long  stage  ride,  start- 
ing out  from  San  Antonio  in  a cold  rain  and  sleet.  I 
was  glad  to  arrive  at  Fort  Ringgold. 


100 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


From  my  quarters  I often  heard,  early  in  the 
morning,  in  the  spring,  the  call  of  the  chadklaca,  the 
Mexican  pheasant,  which  was  plentiful  on  the  Mexi- 
can side  of  the  Rio  Grande  but  quite  scarce  on  our 
side.  I never  saw  one  in  wild  state.  Although  I saw 
no  chacklaca  on  my  hunts  from  Fort  Ringgold  I killed 
quite  a number  of  ducks  with  my  rifle,  and  one  day  I 
had  a real  test  of  the  accuracy  of  the  gun.  While 
concealed  close  to  a pond,  waiting  for  ducks,  I saw  a 
jacksnipe  near  the  water  and  only  about  20  or  25 
yards  away.  No  other  game  was  in  sight,  and  I 
remembered  that  the  wife  of  Capt.  J.  N.  Morgan,  24th 
Inf.  with  whom  I was  messing,  was  convalescent  from 
a long  spell  of  sickness.  I took  careful  aim  at  the 
snipe’s  head  and  nearly  cut  it  off  with  my  cal.  45, 
officers  rifle.  Mrs.  Morgan  was  very  grateful. 

This  hunting  rifle  of  mine,  called  the  “Officers 
Model  of  the  Springfield  Rifle,”  had  a short  round 
barrel,  a peep  sight,  and  a hair  trigger.  After  much 
practice  I discarded  both  hair  trigger  and  peep  sight. 
It  was  the  most  accurate  shooting  rifle  I ever  fired, 
and  with  it  I did  some  fine  shooting.  On  one  occasion 
at  Fort  Ringgold  we  wanted  chicken  for  dinner  and 
they  persisted  in  hiding  under  our  very  old  quarters 
in  that  part  of  the  post  then  called  “Poker  Flat.” 
I crawled  under  the  house  and  with  great  patience  I 
followed  and  watched  the  chickens  until  I got  two  to 
put  their  heads  in  a straight  line  from  me.  I got 
them  both  at  one  shot,  without  injuring  the  bodies  of 
either. 

The  Mexican  town  of  Camargo  was  several  miles 
from  the  river,  but  the  Rio  Grande  rose  to  such  a 
height  in  the  spring  of  1880  as  to  reach  the  outskirts 
of  the  town.  From  the  bluff  on  our  side  of  the  river 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


101 


at  the  ferry  we  saw  several  people  on  the  top  of  the 
shanty  on  the  opposite  bank,  the  water  having  driven 
them  from  the  inside  of  the  house. 

Camargo  was  very  much  run  down,  and  the  business 
of  the  place  must  have  been  very  small.  I found 
nothing  that  I wanted  except  a watermelon,  which  I 
bought  and  ate.  At  the  beginning  of  the  Mexican 
War  it  was  a very  important  place;  General  Zachary 
Taylor  started  out  from  there  for  Monterey,  in  1846. 

While  at  Ringgold  I commanded  my  company 
(“  C ”)  the  entire  time.  One  day  two  of  my  men  were 
brought  to  me,  charged  with  fighting.  John  Hardy, 
the  larger  of  the  two,  had  his  right  hand  wrapped  up  in 
a handkerchief.  After  examining  it  and  noticing  that 
the  wound  was  such  as  might  have  been  made  by  the 
teeth  of  a man  biting  in  good  earnest  between  thumb 
and  forefinger  I asked  Hardy  what  caused  it. 

The  rascal  answered,  without  moving  a muscle  or 
changing  expression  in  the  slightest,  “Dog  bit  me, 
Sir.” 

The  other  colored  soldier  (Blakemore)  rolled  his 
eyes  a little,  showing  that  he  well  understood  what 
Hardy  intended  to  call  him,  and  he  realized  that 
Hardy  had  gotten  even  with  him. 

Being  by  this  time  well  known  for  my  interest  in 
target  practice  I was  again  given  the  task  of  preparing 
the  competitors  at  my  post  for  the  next  department 
rifle  competition.  At  that  time  most  of  us  used  at 
long-range  firing  a back  position  called  “The  Texas 
Grip,”  the  rifle  resting  on  the  right  shoulder  of  a man 
lying  on  his  back,  butt  plate  being  held  steady  by  the 
left  hand  under  the  back  of  the  head,  and  trigger  pulled 
by  a steady  pressure  of  the  thumb  and  forefinger  of 
the  right  hand,  thumb  on  the  trigger.  The  gun-sling 


102 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


was  well  lengthened  and  left  leg  passed  through  it, 
the  legs  crossed  with  left  leg  on  top,  the  rifle  stock  on 
the  right  side  of  the  head.  It  was  a good  position  for 
target  range  shooting  on  smooth  and  level  ground,  but 
not  for  battle  conditions.  This  back  position  inter- 
fered with  firing  from  concealment,  and  it  was  believed, 
for  that  and  other  reasons,  that  a man  would  prefer 
firing  from  a prone  position  in  actual  battle.  How- 
ever, the  various  back  positions  held  their  own  for 
some  years.  Before  abandoning  them  we  had  gotten 
to  using  a spirit  level  to  assist  in  getting  the  piece 
perfectly  level. 

The  heat  at  Ringgold  was  very  great  and  sultry, 
and  the  outside  world  there  offered  very  little  that  was 
interesting,  except  that  the  hunting  was  good  when 
one  had  the  energy  to  go  out  and  look  for  the  game. 

On  June  1,  1880,  the  battalion  of  the  24th  Infantry 
started  up  the  Rio  Grande  under  orders  to  change 
station  by  marching,  and  we  were  to  be  badly  scat- 
tered on  completion  of  the  movement.  Our  Major 
commanded  us,  and  although  he  had  served  in  the 
Civil  War  and  had  been  brevetted,  he  seemed  to 
know  very  little  about  marching,  as  we  soon  learned, 
to  our  sorrow.  We  started  as  late  as  7 o’clock  on  that 
June  morning,  and  we  were  escorted  out  of  the  post 
by  the  8th  Cavalry  Band  which  w^as  mounted,  and  of 
course  they  gave  us  a good  lively  quick  step  which  was 
not  a very  good  one  to  keep  up  during  a long  march  on 
such  a hot  day. 

The  Major  rode  in  front,  as  did  his  second  in  com- 
mand, Capt.  Lewis  Johnson,  and  the  Acting  Adjutant 
and  Quartermaster,  Lieut.  H.  L.  Ripley,  rode  also. 
These  officers  were  very  properly  mounted,  under  the 
regulations. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


103 


My  company  was  the  third,  in  order  of  marching. 
We  marched  too  fast  from  the  very  beginning,  our 
halts  were  too  short,  and  consequently  when  we  made 
one  of  the  regulation  ten  minute  halts  at  the  inevitable 
nine  mile  water  hole  the  men  immediately  filled  them- 
selves with  warm  water  and  lay  down  in  the  shade, 
feeling  hot,  weak,  and  sick  at  the  stomach.  I did  it, 
so  I knew  very  well  how  they  felt. 

Soon  I heard  the  Major  call  for  the  orderly 
trumpeter.  I knew  what  that  meant,  and  I hastened 
to  where  our  commanding  officer  was,  and  I said, 
“Colonel,  won’t  you  please  allow  us  to  rest  in  this 
shade  a little  longer.  The  men  have  filled  themselves 
with  water,  and  now  they  feel  sick.  I know  it,  for  I 
have  done  it,  too.  With  a few  minutes’  longer  rest  we 
will  all  get  up  and  march  on,  but  if  you  order  the 
assembly  now  about  half  of  your  command  will  remain 
under  these  shade  trees.” 

His  only  reply  was,  “We  must  be  at  Roma  by  mid- 
day. Orderly,  sound  the  assembly.” 

My  prophecy  was  fully  proven  by  the  results.  At 
least  half  the  enlisted  men  remained  lying  down  in  the 
shade  of  the  trees,  and  two  miles  further  on  I had  my 
fill  too,  and  selecting  the  shadiest  mesquite  tree  in 
sight  I dropped  out  of  ranks  and  laid  myself  down 
under  that  tree,  and  did  my  best  to  faint  and  thus 
escape  the  awful  heat  and  the  pain  of  it,  but  without 
success.  I counted  the  men  as  they  marched  past.  I 
saw  only  one  man  of  my  own  company,  but  there  may 
have  been  more,  for  the  four  companies  were  very 
much  mixed  up,  in  that  column  of  two’s.  The  strong- 
est men  were  at  the  front. 

In  half  an  hour  Lieut.  Leavell  came  back,  mounted, 
and  wanted  me  to  take  his  horse,  which  of  course  I 


104 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


refused  to  do.  In  less  than  an  hour  I got  up  and 
moved  on,  and  along  the  road  I saw  several  colored 
soldiers  apparently  insensible  from  heat  and  fatigue. 
I am  sure  that  one  was  insensible,  for  I saw  him  fall  to 
the  ground,  his  head  landing  among  the  thorns  of  a 
palm  leaf  cactus  bush  without  awaking  him. 

On  the  third  day  my  company  led  the  column.  I 
marched  at  the  head  of  the  company,  by  the  side  of  my 
fat  First  Sergeant,  who  joined  the  cavalry  when  dis- 
charged at  the  end  of  that  enlistment.  I deliberately 
chose  a gait  which  all  could  keep  up,  notwithstanding 
many  impatient  looks  to  the  rear  from  our  battalion 
commander.  I was  fully  rewarded  by  the  result,  for 
no  one  had  to  fall  out  that  I heard  of. 

While  marching  in  the  awful  heat  of  the  sun  and 
along  a sandy  road  I heard  a long  legged  soldier,  a 
former  railroad  hand,  say,  “Now  here!  Don’t  you 
see?  We  ain’t  gwine  to  have  no  break-downs  today. 
This  ain’t  no  lightning  express,  drappin’  us  all  along 
the  road.  No,  Sir!  It’s  a good  old  ’commodation 
train,  and  it’s  gwine  to  take  us  all  in  to  camp.”  Pri- 
vate John  Hardy  was  a worthless  soldier,  but  I forgave 
him  much  because  of  his  correct  appreciation  of  my 
intention  that  day. 

We  camped  one  night  in  such  a good  place  that  I 
could  not  resist  the  desire  to  go  out  and  hunt  after  eat- 
ing a good  meal  on  arrival  in  camp.  Deer  were 
plentiful  and  I did  some  very  poor  shooting,  and  next 
morning,  instead  of  marching  with  the  troops  I went 
again  to  the  same  good  hunting  ground,  taking  Lieut. 
Leavell  and  his  horse  with  me.  I killed  a big  deer 
and  put  it  on  the  horse  and  then  we  followed  the 
battalion,  afoot.  It  was  a long  day’s  walk,  but  I 
felt  repaid  for  the  hard  work. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


105 


We  rested  one  day  at  Fort  McIntosh,  another  at 
Fort  Clark  where  I ate  too  much  marshmallow  candy, 
and  then  we  started  on  a long  march  via  Del  Rio  to 
Pena  Colorada  and  Fort  Stockton.  Lewis  Johnson 
went  with  his  company  to  Fort  Concho,  via  Fort 
McKavett. 

We  found  Devil’s  River  a beautiful  stream,  and  full 
of  fish  which  our  men  caught  with  their  hands,  and 
with  their  bayonets  tied  to  long  poles,  using  the  same 
to  spear  the  fish. 

Our  marches  were  sometimes  very  dry.  One  stretch 
of  dry  road  was  forty  miles  long,  but  we  had  provided 
ourselves  with  a water  wagon  at  Fort  Clark,  and  we 
camped  just  half  way,  thus  dividing  the  distance  into 
two  marches.  We  were  using  the  road  which  had 
been  made  by  the  labor  of  troops,  and  some  places 
showed  great  work  and  considerable  engineering  skill. 
The  crossing  of  the  Pecos  River  was  the  best  piece  of 
road  engineering  that  we  saw.  The  water  of  that 
river  where  we  crossed  about  five  miles  above  its 
mouth  was  very  brackish,  but  Lieut.  Bullis,  who  knew 
the  country  well,  had  told  us  of  a fine  fresh  water 
spring  near  the  river  water’s  edge  and  close  to  the 
ford  on  the  right  bank.  We  enjoyed  that  spring 
of  good  fresh  water  very  much. 

Along  the  road  we  saw  in  several  places  specimens 
of  Indian  painting  with  soft  red  and  yellow  stones. 
The  drawings  usually  represented  Indians  and  buffaloes 
and  sometimes  an  Indian  killing  a white  man.  On 
July  6th  we  arrived  at  Pena  Colorada,  about  50  miles 
from  Fort  Stockton  and  65  from  Fort  Davis,  and  my 
company  relieved  at  Pefia  Colorada  a company  of  the 
25th  Infantry  commanded  by  Capt.  Andrew  Geddes. 

We  found  there  several  soldier-made  mud  and  stone 


106 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


huts,  roofed  with  mud  and  grass  and  the  rainy  season 
was  just  beginning.  We  repaired  and  completed 
those  buildings  the  best  we  could.  The  south  side  of 
the  hills  and  mountains  there  had  a growth  of  scrub 
cedar,  and  in  one  place  I saw  some  good  scrub  oak. 
Pena  Colorada  was  about  ten  miles  from  the  present 
railroad  station  of  Marathon,  on  the  Southern  Pacific 
route.  Antelope  could  be  seen  at  any  time  of  the  day 
from  a low  hill  half  a mile  from  our  little  huts.  The 
men  were  housed  in  two  long  narrow  huts,  facing  two 
others  in  which  Lieut.  Augur  and  I lived.  The 
officers’  quarters  were  of  one  room  each.  WTe  roofed 
over  the  four  walls  of  a structure  of  stone  on  the  third 
side  of  the  square,  and  used  it  as  a storehouse. 

We  found  some  straight  rations  there,  and  a few 
extras,  and  about  the  time  of  our  arrival  there  came 
into  the  mountain  gap  hah  a mile  below  a small  herd 
of  stock  cattle.  From  the  owner  of  that  herd  we 
bought  in  open  market  all  the  fine  beef  we  needed,  and 
I never  tasted  better  beef  in  my  life.  I never  felt  so 
well  and  strong  at  any  other  time  of  my  life. 

The  rains  soon  came,  including  a big  hail  storm 
which  provided  us  with  some  buckets  full  of  ice,  to  our 
satisfaction.  Because  of  the  high  altitude  and  the 
frequent  showers  the  weather  was  very  pleasant.  We 
inherited  from  our  predecessors  a Mexican  guide,  Jose 
Tafolla,  and  he  had  two  ponies  and  one  saddle.  It  was 
not  long  before  Jose  and  I were  riding  about,  looking 
for  game,  but  I soon  learned  that  he  was  too  much 
inclined  to  stay  close  to  our  little  post. 

A week  or  two  after  our  arrival  a body  of  mounted 
men  came  up  the  road,  our  road  from  the  southeast. 
Capt.  Livermore,  of  the  Engineers,  was  triangulating 
that  Big  Bend  country,  and  he  had  with  him  Lieut. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


107 


Pullman  and  his  troop  of  the  8th  Cavalry,  also  Lieut. 
Shunk  with  Bullis’s  Seminole  Negro  Indian  Scouts. 

Some  of  the  supplies  at  Pena  Colorada  were 
intended  for  that  expedition,  but  Livermore  concluded 
to  move  on  to  Fort  Davis  and  take  part  in  the  active 
campaign  then  going  on  against  the  Mescalero 
Apaches  of  Victoria,  and  his  departure  gave  us  great 
satisfaction,  because  of  the  scarcity  of  rations  and  the 
great  distance  to  the  nearest  post  where  we  could  get 
more.  Livermore  left  with  us  a box  containing  a 
saddle  and  bridle,  belonging  to  some  absent  officer, 
and  he  told  us  of  having  left  a lame  cavalry  horse  at 
Meyer’s  Spring,  about  28  miles  below.  The  horse 
was  described  as  having  been  hurt  by  the  sharp 
points  of  the  lechuguilla  plant  sticking  him  just  above 
the  foot.  In  about  ten  days  I took  Jose  and  his  two 
ponies,  and  using  the  saddle  and  bridle  left  with  us  by 
Livermore  we  went  to  Meyer’s  Spring  for  the  aban- 
doned cavalry  horse,  and  we  found  him,  apparently  as 
glad  as  we  were  to  find  him. 

From  that  time  on  I had  a good  mount,  the  new 
horse  being  soon  in  good  condition,  and  proving  to  be 
an  excellent  riding  animal,  and  gentle  enough  to  carry 
the  deer  which  I soon  succeeded  in  killing.  We  had  a 
number  of  successful  hunts.  From  my  mud  palace  I 
would  point  out  to  Jose  a mountain  peak  ten  or  fifteen 
miles  away  and  tell  him  that  we  would  go  there  the 
next  day.  “Bueno,”  was  his  only  reply.  The  next 
morning  we  would  ride  to  the  spot  pointed  out,  select  a 
good  camping  place  and  then  we  would  have  a fine  hunt. 

We  always  took  with  us  something  to  eat,  and  we 
made  our  coffee  in  our  tin  cups,  and  usually  cooked 
some  fresh  meat.  After  my  decision  to  go  too  far  to 
return  the  same  day  we  always  found  and  brought 


108 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


home  either  deer  or  antelope,  and  sometimes  both. 
We  also  saw  lots  of  bear  signs,  and  one  of  our  men  saw 
one  up  in  the  bluffs  near  where  we  went  for  some 
cottonwood  poles. 

One  day,  while  following  a big  deer  up  and  over  the 
mountain  bluff  I found  a very  large  boulder  which  had 
just  been  turned  over,  and  the  fresh  soil  uncovered 
had  been  scratched  up  for  food,  worms  I suppose. 

There  was  no  house  on  the  “Military  Road”  as  far 
back  as  San  Felipe  del  Rio,  and  I was  much  surprised 
one  day  to  see  a solitary  horseman  ride  into  our  camp 
all  the  way  from  San  Antonio.  He  was  a contractor 
to  furnish  fuel  and  hay  at  my  little  post,  also  at  va- 
rious other  larger  posts.  His  name  was  well  known  in 
San  Antonio  and  at  many  Army  posts  as  that  of  a 
family  of  contractors.  He  came  to  look  for  wood  in 
our  vicinity  suitable  for  fuel.  The  contract  called  for 
“hard  wood.” 

I had  a tent  put  up  for  the  man,  and  I made  him 
comfortable  in  every  manner  possible  under  the 
circumstances.  I took  him  out  to  where  there  was 
plenty  of  good  oak  for  fuel,  and  showed  him  the  open 
prairie  to  haul  it  over,  and  I gave  him  to  understand 
that  we  would  insist  on  the  supply  of  such  oak  for  our 
fuel  under  his  contract.  I was  greatly  surprised  some 
time  after  to  learn  that  some  Mexicans  were  cutting 
down  some  cedar  timber  close  to  the  road  to  Fort 
Davis  and  a little  farther  away  than  the  oak  woods 
which  I had  shown  to  the  contractor.  Both  Augur 
and  I were  determined  that  we  would  accept  no  cedar 
on  that  contract. 

I think  it  possible  that  we  were  somewhat  in- 
fluenced to  such  determination  by  the  man’s  descrip- 
tion of  his  methods  in  submitting  bids  for  contracts. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


109 


He  said  that  his  two  brothers  and  he  would  always  bid 
for  the  same  contract,  separately  but  close  enough  to 
avoid  most  bids  between,  and  the  lowest  bid  being  as 
low  as  would  allow  any  good  profit.  If  no  bid  came 
between  their  lowest  and  next  lowest  bids  their  lowest 
bid  was  withdrawn  and  the  forfeit  paid  to  the  Govern- 
ment, and  the  same  was  done  with  the  middle  bid  if  no 
other  came  between  it  and  the  highest  of  the  three 
bids.  That  cold  blooded  treatment  of  the  Govern- 
ment irritated  my  Quartermaster  and  myself,  and  we 
determined  that  we  would  make  him  at  least  furnish 
the  kind  of  wood  called  for  in  the  contract,  and  I 
therefore  carefully  showed  him  such  wood. 


r>ift,nnvHx,tr>  begin  bringing  in  his  cedar  fuel  on  a 
contract  which  called  for  “hard  wood,”  our  successors 
arrived,  marching  up  that  same  good  military  road, 
and  that  same  night  the  wood  contractor  brought  in 
the  first  instalment  of  his  cedar.  I carefully  explained 
to  Col.  Shafter  and  the  officer  of  his  regiment  (1st 
Infantry)  that  he  was  going  to  leave  there  to  be 
commanding  officer,  all  about  our  wood  contract  and 
the  vicinity  of  good  oak  wood  to  fill  it  with,  and  I 
thought  that  I had  settled  it  all  right.  But,  •Horny- 
‘BjgBaaiy  supplied  my  successors  with  cedar  fuel. 

1st  Lieut.  Frank  Edmunds,  1st  Infantry,  accom- 
panied us  on  our  march  to  Fort  Davis  which  we  began 
the  next  morning.  On  the  way  I had  an  opportunity 
to  see  if  antelope  would  come  up  to  every  red  hand- 
kerchief waved  at  them  from  the  end  of  a stick  by  a 
man  well  concealed.  I was  well  hidden,  and  my  red 
handkerchief  was  on  my  ramrod,  and  the  animals 
were  two  hundred  yards  away,  when  I gave  the  signal. 
When  I looked  up  from  behind  my  bush  after  waiting 


While  we  waited,  not  very  patiently,  for 


110 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


long  enough,  the  antelope  were  half  a mile  distant, 
running  fast. 

On  arriving  at  Fort  Davis  I turned  over  to  Lieut. 
Edmunds  the  cavalry  horse  which  I had  recovered,  our 
regiment  being  then  in  expectation  of  a change  of 
station. 

The  Indian  campaign  against  Victoria  and  his 
Apaches  was  then  going  on  and  it  had  added  some 
little  spice  to  our  life  at  Pena  Colorada.  One  day 
in  the  mountains,  I found  a recently  killed  pony, 
evidently  left  there  by  some  stragglers  from  Victoria’s 
band  of  Apaches  who  were  then  being  hunted  and 
chased  on  both  sides  of  the  Rio  Grande.  That  was  my 
nearest  approach  to  participation  in  an  Indian  cam- 
paign, which  I could  never  figure  out  as  entitling  me 
to  the  right  to  wear  a campaign  badge  for  it. 

While  at  Pena  Colorada  I discovered  that  a deer  can 
travel  far,  and  die  out  of  sight,  after  receiving  a mortal 
wound.  I stood  beside  my  third  deer  one  day,  looked 
back  at  Jose  who  was  following  with  our  horses,  and 
quite  exultingly  I said  to  him,  “Otro  venado,  no?” 
(Another  deer,  isn’t  it?)  At  the  sound  of  my  voice 
my  wounded  deer  sprang  up  from  the  ground  and  ran 
away,  for  my  next  and  succeeding  shots  missed  him, 
and  we  watched  the  animal  go  straight  away  into  the 
broad  valley,  towards  camp  and  in  sight  of  us  for  at 
least  two  miles.  We  followed  and  had  little  difficulty 
in  finding  the  dead  body,  already  cold  and  stiff. 

Since  leaving  Pena  Colorada  I have  often  smiled  to 
hear  some  one  tell  confidently  how  easily  he  could 
distinguish  deer  meat  from  that  of  antelope,  when 
cooked.  My  doubt  as  to  one’s  ability  to  do  that  was 
derived  from  the  following  experience. 

At  our  little  post  there  were  three  in  our  officers’ 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


111 


mess;  Contract  Surgeon  Duvall,  Lieut.  Augur  and 
myself,  and  we  had  for  our  cook  Pvt.  Calvin  Ewing  of 
Company  “C,”  24th  Infantry.  On  two  separate  and 
different  occasions  we  members  of  the  mess  disputed 
as  to  what  kind  of  meat  we  then  had  before  us  on  the 
table,  knowing  that  we  had  at  that  instant  deer, 
antelope  and  fine  young  beef  available.  On  both 
occasions  we  appealed  to  the  cook  to  decide  for  us, 
and  both  times,  with  wide  grin  on  his  face  he  said, 
“Beef,  Sir.”  Neither  of  us  had  guessed  beef  on  either 
occasion.  However,  our  meat  was  always  cooked  in 
the  same  manner,  and  showed  no  difference  in 
appearance. 

One  night  our  guide  Jose  went  down  to  the 
mountain  gap  to  see  some  other  Mexicans  who  were 
stopping  there  for  the  night.  The  next  morning  he 
was  laid  up,  sick,  with  one  arm  out  of  socket  at  the 
shoulder.  Dr.  Duvall  laid  Jose  flat  on  his  back,  had 
me  pull  hard  on  one  arm  while  he  pulled  at  the  other. 
The  arm  popped  back  into  place  with  an  audible  snap, 
and  my  guide  was  well  again,  with  his  shoulder  a trifle 
sore  for  a day  or  two. 

I have  always  regretted  staying  at  Pena  Colorada  so 
short  a time,  because  of  the  abundance  of  big  game 
within  close  reach.  Deer  and  antelope  we  had  found 
out  how  to  get  by  staying  out  all  night  and  hunting 
practically  two  days,  and  we  would  soon  have  had 
plenty  of  bear  meat  also.  I have  never  since  then  had 
such  good  opportunity  to  kill  the  game  mentioned. 
We  had  been  there  only  nine  or  ten  weeks  when  Col. 
Shafter  (my  former  commanding  officer)  came  along 
with  a part  of  his  1st  Infantry  and  relieved  us.  Then, 
accompanied  by  Lieut.  Frank  Edmunds,  Quarter- 
master 1st  Inf.,  we  marched  to  Fort  Davis,  leaving 


112 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


our  mud  huts  about  the  middle  of  September,  1880. 
On  the  way  to  Davis  we  saw  some  more  evidence  of 
good  road  building  by  the  Army. 

At  Fort  Davis  we  found  the  Headquarters  and 
several  companies  of  the  24th  Infantry,  also  the  empty 
barracks  of  several  troops  of  the  10th  Cavalry,  the 
troopers  being  then  in  the  field  chasing  Victoria  and 
his  Mescalero  Apaches.  My  colored  classmate, 
Lieut.  H.  O.  Flipper,  was  with  those  absentees  in  the 
field.  I did  not  see  him. 

Augur  and  I took  our  meals  at  the  officers’  mess 
which  we  found  running,  and  at  which  we  ate  with  the 
Commanding  Officer,  Major  N.  B.  McLoughlin,  10th 
Cavalry.  The  Post  Quartermaster  and  one  or  two 
other  officers  also  messed  there. 

Old  Napoleon  Bonaparte  McLoughlin  was  a fine 
soldier  of  the  old  type.  He  told  me  that  he  used  to 
carry  his  double  barrel  shot  gun  in  an  attack  on  an 
Indian  camp,  especially  if  a night  attack.  I have 
always  remembered  that. 

Service  at  Fort  Davis  wras  quiet  for  us  of  the  in- 
fantry, not  hard,  and  it  was  very  pleasant.  The 
climate  in  that  part  of  Texas,  like  that  of  Arizona  and 
New  Mexico,  is  the  healthiest  I have  ever  experienced. 
The  air  is  very  dry,  and  the  year  is  divided  into  two 
distinct  seasons,  and  only  two,  the  dry  and  the 
moderately  wet,  the  rainy  season  being  short,  and  the 
altitude  that  of  several  thousand  feet,  and  the  com- 
bination produced  a most  enjoyable  temperature  all 
the  year  round. 

The  post  was  located  at  the  foot  of  some  high  bluffs, 
from  which,  in  old  times,  Indians  sometimes  fired  at 
the  garrison. 

In  going  to  Fort  Davis  we  had  used  one  of  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


113 


canyon  roads,  and  in  leaving  we  used  the  other, 
both  fine  specimens  of  soldier  work  in  road  making. 
Musquiz  and  Limpia  were  the  names  of  the  two 
canyons. 

While  at  Davis  I had  been  twice  taken  out  for  a 
short  duck  hunt  by  the  fine  old  officer  who  com- 
manded the  post,  an  excellent  officer  of  the  old  time 
practical  soldier  type,  very  punctilious,  careful,  polite, 
conscientious  in  the  discharge  of  every  duty  and  very 
efficient.  He  had  been  a captain  in  the  4th  Cavalry 
under  Mackenzie,  and  was  said  to  have  been  the  only 
officer  in  that  regiment  who  did  not  stand  in  the 
greatest  awe  of  his  colonel.  A story  which  I had 
already  heard  told  by  officers  of  the  4th  Cavalry  should, 
if  true,  indicate  that  McLoughlin  was  not  afraid  of  his 
colonel.  Here’s  the  story. 

On  one  of  Mackenzie’s  many  scouts  that  officer  was 
gazing  heavenwards  one  night,  while  walking  back  and 
forth  in  front  of  his  tent,  or  perhaps  his  roll  of  bed- 
ding, and  snapping  his  fingers  as  he  walked,  as  was  his 
custom  when  not  feeling  very  amiable.  Now  and 
then  he  would  stop  and  look  in  a certain  direction. 
Having  noticed  Mackenzie  do  this  several  times  Capt. 
McLoughlin  asked,  “What  are  you  looking  at, 
General?” 

“Nothing  much,”  was  Mackenzie’s  reply,  “I  was 
only  looking  for  that  star,  I don’t  see  it  tonight.” 

“General,  you  can’t  see  that  star  now,  there’s 
Miles  between  you  and  the  star.” 

No  other  officer  in  the  regiment  would  have  dared 
to  inform  Mackenzie  that  his  rival  Miles  would  beat 
him  to  a brigadier  general’s  star,  but  McLoughlin 
told  the  truth. 

We  did  not  see  Livermore  and  his  command  at 


114 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Fort  Davis,  for,  instead  of  continuing  his  work  of 
triangulating  the  “big  bend”  country,  Capt.  Liver- 
more hurried  on  from  that  post  to  join  in  the  chase 
after  Victoria  and  his  Apaches.  In  those  days  an 
officer  of  engineers  rarely  had  command  of  a troop 
of  cavalry  and  a company  of  Indian  Scouts,  and 
Livermore  apparently  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
to  play  at  real  soldiering. 

Fort  Davis  was  about  450  miles  from  San  Antonio, 
the  nearest  railroad  station,  and  all  military  stores 
and  almost  everything  else  had  to  be  hauled  from  the 
railroad  by  wagons,  big  trains  of  big  wagons  driven 
by  Mexicans  to  whom  time  was  no  object,  and  who, 
therefore,  from  preference  chose  the  long  road  via 
Forts  McKavett,  Concho  and  Stockton  rather  than 
travel  the  straight  military  road  which  we  used  on  our 
march  from  Fort  Clark.  At  Davis  I served  my  last 
tour  on  a Receiving  Board,  for  I can  remember  none 
after  leaving  that  post. 

Sometime  in  November,  1880,  we  started  marching 
again,  this  time  to  Fort  Sill,  Indian  Territory,  now 
Oklahoma.  Regimental  Headquarters  and  the  com- 
panies of  the  24th  Infantry  which  we  had  found  at 
Fort  Davis  had  already  gone,  excepting  one,  “B.” 
The  two  companies  of  us,  under  the  command  of 
Capt.  J.  B.  Nixon,  made  the  75  miles  to  Fort  Stockton 
in  five  days’  easy  marching.  It  only  toughened  us  up 
and  made  after  marching  easy.  We  picked  up  a 
third  company  at  Stockton,  commanded  by  Lieut. 
Ripley,  and  from  there  we  made  the  160  miles  to  Fort 
Concho  in  eight  days.  Capt.  Keyes  with  his  tired 
troop  of  the  10th  Cavalry  was  returning  from  chasing 
Victoria’s  Apaches,  and  we  made  camp  at  the  same 
place  every  night.  However,  Keyes’  horses  were  in 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


115 


poor  condition  because  of  their  hard  field  work,  and 
while  we  improved  in  strength  and  in  marching  ability 
from  day  to  day,  the  animals  got  weaker,  and  several 
were  abandoned  on  the  road.  We  felt  good  and  strong, 
marching  in  that  cool  temperature,  wearing  our  blue 
overcoats,  and  we  made  daily  twenty  miles  with 
increasing  ability  to  do  it  the  next  day. 

This  long  march  gave  me  another  opportunity  to 
observe  the  colored  soldier  in  the  field.  Having 
pitched  camp  after  the  day’s  march,  and  having 
completed  their  regular  camp  duties,  it  was  not  long 
before  they  would  have  the  biggest  camp  fire  that  the 
wood  allowance  would  allow,  and  before  this  fire  they 
would  dry  their  clothing  if  we  had  been  marching  in  the 
rain,  and  then  they  would  hardly  wait  for  the  next  meal 
before  they  would  begin  to  sing  and  dance,  showing  a 
cheerful  disposition,  fine  physical  condition  and  satis- 
faction with  things  generally.  With  colored  troops 
well  handled  it  is  impossible  not  to  take  to  them 
kindly.  They  need  from  their  officers  more  personal 
care  and  attention  than  white  soldiers  do,  but  they 
repay  many  times  all  that  is  done  for  them. 

At  Fort  Concho,  just  outside  of  San  Angelo, 
located  between  the  forks  of  the  two  Concho  Rivers, 
we  had  to  stop  two  or  three  weeks.  Why  it  was  we 
had  no  idea,  but  during  that  delay,  according  to  my 
opinion, — there  occurred  the  sequel  to  our  march 
into  Mexico  in  June,  1878.  During  our  stay  at 
Concho  General  E.  O.  C.  Ord  was  retired.  He  had 
reached  the  age  of  62,  thus  giving  the  President  the 
power  to  retire  him,  willing  or  not. 

I believe  that  General  Ord  was  made  the  scapegoat 
of  Mackenzie’s  expedition  in  1878,  and  that  his  retire- 
ment was  intended  to  smooth  over  our  mistake  at 


116 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


that  time.  It  also  created  the  vacancy  which  verified 
old  McLoughlin’s  prediction  about  the  star.  Nelson 
A.  Miles  was  promoted  to  fill  the  vacancy  made  by 
Ord’s  retirement. 

Late  in  December  we  got  started  on  our  march 
again,  and  we  found  the  terminus  of  the  railroad  at 
Eastland,  Texas,  and  there  we  took  the  train  for 
Gainsville,  Texas.  We  camped  right  in  Eastland, 
then  a very  young  place  indeed,  and  we  bought  our 
water  for  drinking  purposes  by  the  barrel,  that 
necessity  being  a commodity  sold  on  the  street. 

While  in  camp  there  I noticed  that  Corporal  John 
Ware  was  gradually  becoming  drunk.  He  belonged 
to  Capt.  Nixon’s  company  (“B”).  Our  train  pulled 
out  late  in  the  afternoon.  I marched  on  as  Officer  of 
the  Day,  and  it  was  not  long  before  my  Sergeant  of 
the  Guard  came  to  tell  me  that  Corp.  WTare  was  raising 
a disturbance  in  the  Company  “B”  coach. 

Capt.  Nixon  and  the  officers  had  the  sleeping  car,  or 
a part  of  it.  I directed  the  Sergeant  of  the  Guard  to 
go  back  and  tell  Corp.  Ware  that  he  had  better 
behave  himself,  and  that  if  he  did  not  do  so  he  would 
promptly  get  himself  into  trouble.  Pretty  soon  the 
Sergeant  returned  and  said  to  me,  “Sir,  Officer  of  the 
Day,  Corporal  John  Ware,  Sir,  he’s  behaving  awful 
bad,  he’s  calling  the  rest  of  us  bad  names,  and  he  won’t 
shut  up.” 

The  Commanding  Officer  showing  that  he  was  going 
to  allow  me  to  handle  the  case  all  by  myself  I ordered 
the  Sergeant  to  go  back  and  tell  Corp.  Ware  that  if  he 
did  not  immediately  behave  himself  the  Officer  of  the 
Day  would  come  to  see  him. 

But  the  Sergeant  of  the  Guard  continued.  “Sir, 
Officer  of  the  Day,  he’s  raising  an  awful  row,  calling 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


117 


the  other  men  slaves,  and  sons  of  slaves,  and  bragging 
about  his  never  having  been  a slave.  It  is  bad,  Sir, 
and  mighty  hard  on  the  men.” 

Being  a Southerner  I quickly  understood  what  was 
the  matter,  and  what  might  happen  unless  that  old 
time  free  negro’s  tongue  were  promptly  silenced.  I 
knew  that  even  as  late  as  1880  there  was  no  deadlier 
cause  for  a terrible  fight  between  negroes  than  for  one 
who  had  never  been  a slave  to  taunt  his  fellow  negro 
with  having  been  a slave,  or  the  son  of  a slave.  I 
immediately  went  to  the  car  where  Corp.  Ware  was. 
When  I arrived  he  was  really  very  quiet,  but  the  men 
in  that  car  were  all  wide  awake  and  very  much  excited, 
being  very  angry  and  plainly  showing  it. 

I said  quietly  and  in  a low  tone,  “ Corporal,  you  are 
going  to  be  quiet  now.  I am  going  to  remain  here  a 
while,  and  if  you  say  five  words  in  the  next  half  hour 
I will  buck  and  gag  you,  corporal  or  no  corporal,” 
and  I pulled  out  my  watch  as  I spoke  to  him. 

“Yes,  Sir,”  he  said,  and  not  at  all  defiantly. 

“You  have  said  two  words,  Corporal,  and  you  have 
only  three  more  to  say,”  and  I looked  at  my  watch. 

For  perhaps  seven  minutes  there  was  absolute 
silence  in  that  car,  and  the  men  were  greatly  excited. 
Then  the  Corporal  said  a few  words,  and  I knew  that 
I had  been  defied,  and  that  I must  do  something,  and 
be  quick  about  it. 

“That’s  enough,  Corporal,  I am  going  to  buck  and 
gag  you  now,”  I said  very  quietly,  and  I looked 
around  to  find  a suitable  man  to  assist  me,  and  to 
really  do  the  work.  A dozen  men  seemed  very  desir- 
ous of  helping  me,  among  them  a man  who  had 
recently  quarreled  with  Ware,  which  fact  I remem- 
bered then. 


118 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


But  I saw  big  Sergeant  Grayson  close  by,  and  I said 
to  him,  “Get  something  to  do  it  with,  Sergeant.”  I 
then  had  the  Corporal  sit  down  on  the  floor. 

I found  a cord  to  tie  Ware’s  hands  with,  and  they 
were  put  so  as  to  embrace  his  own  knees,  and  were  held 
in  place  by  his  own  rifle,  placed  under  his  knees  and 
over  his  elbows.  A short  iron  rod  about  eight  inches 
long  and  three  fourths  of  an  inch  in  diameter  was 
found  in  the  wood  box,  and  it  was  put  in  Ware’s 
mouth,  pressed  back  towards  his  ears  and  held  in  place 
by  the  two  ends  being  tied  together  with  my 
handkerchief. 

Sergeant  Grayson  did  it  all  without  assistance  from 
anyone,  and  without  resistance  from  Ware,  while  it 
seemed  that  every  man  in  the  car  wanted  to  help  us. 
The  desire  to  assist  was  so  evident  in  the  case  of  Pri- 
vate Voll  Hopkins  that  I had  to  speak  to  him  sharply. 

I now  went  back  to  Capt.  Nixon  and  told  him  what 
I had  done,  and  then  I went  to  bed.  Next  morning 
the  Captain,  a very  kind  hearted  man,  told  me  that 
after  waiting  about  two  hours  he  was  sure  that  Ware 
had  enough,  so  he  went  back  to  see  him,  and  then 
he  had  Ware  released  from  his  cramped  position. 
The  Captain  said  that  everything  in  that  car  was 
absolutely  quiet,  and  that  Ware  was  as  meek  as  a 
lamb.  I have  always  been  glad  that  the  Captain  had 
Ware  released,  but  I have  also  been  pleased  with 
myself  for  my  method  of  handling  him. 

At  Gainsville  we  left  the  train  and  the  railroad, 
and  then  we  marched  towards  Fort  Sill.  I was  again 
Officer  of  the  Day  when  we  arrived  at  Red  River,  at 
the  very  same  spot  where,  nearly  ten  years  before,  I 
had  crossed  the  river  with  cattle,  en  route  to  Kansas. 
This  time  the  weather  was  very  different.  It  was 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


119 


about  January  29th,  and  very  cold,  so  cold  that  it 
stopped  snowing  just  before  we  reached  the  river, 
and  it  was  a very  thin  snow  at  that. 

Our  wagon  transportation  was  very  poor.  It  was 
composed  of  two  horse  wagons  hired,  or  contracted 
for,  and  not  in  good  condition.  The  river  was  about 
one  hundred  yards  wide  and  nowhere  more  than  knee 
deep.  The  men  were  made  to  get  on  the  freight 
wagons,  the  Red  Cross  ambulance  and  the  Daugherty 
wagon,  and  the  light  vehicles  were  sent  back  and 
forth,  thus  saving  the  men  from  getting  wet.  No  one 
was  allowed  to  wade  across.  This  consumed  more 
than  an  hour,  and  while  we  were  waiting  for  the  last 
wagon  to  cross,  the  water  had  frozen  before  our  very 
eyes,  and  at  the  last  the  wagons  were  travelling  a 
beaten  track,  with  ice  above  and  below,  but  still  very 
thin. 

A soldier  called  my  attention  to  my  ears,  which  he 
said  were  frozen,  telling  me  that  they  were  very  white, 
but  I could  not  believe  it,  not  feeling  any  pain  at  that 
time.  But,  I had,  shortly  before,  noticed  the  intense 
cold.  My  overcoat  cape  had  been  made  removable 
during  my  service  in  southern  Texas,  and  I had  lost  it, 
much  to  my  discomfort  on  that  winter  march. 

After  crossing  the  river  we  made  a halt  and  went 
into  camp  close  to  the  big  bluff,  which  gave  us  excel- 
lent shelter  from  the  cold  north  wind.  Then  I learned 
that  the  soldier  was  right  concerning  my  ears,  and  I 
hastened  to  look  for  snow  to  use  on  them,  but  finding 
too  little  to  be  of  any  benefit  I broke  up  some  of  the 
thin  ice  and  did  my  best  with  that. 

That  night  some  of  our  men  went  across  the  river  on 
the  ice  to  where  liquor  was  obtainable,  and  I believe 
that  some  of  them  broke  through  the  ice  en  route. 


120 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Next  morning  there  were  some  25  or  30  men  with 
frost  bitten  fingers,  toes,  or  ears.  My  ears  puffed  up 
big  at  first,  but  did  not  pain  much.  For  several  days 
I kept  them  well  wrapt  up. 

In  several  days  more  we  arrived  at  Fort  Sill.  On 
the  road  we  met  a company  of  the  16th  Infantry,  then 
leaving  that  post,  and  we  laughed  to  see  the  company 
commander,  a young  lieutenant,  riding  in  the  Daugh- 
erty wagon.  But  he  might  have  been  sick,  or 
recovering  from  recent  illness.  We  were  feeling  so 
strong  from  our  long  marching  that  we  could  see  no 
good  reason  why  a man  should  not  prefer  to  walk  in 
such  weather.  We  really  preferred  it  on  that  cold 
march. 

At  some  camp  between  Gainsville  and  Fort  Sill 
Capt.  Nixon  had  Corporal  Ware  come  to  his  tent  and 
apologize  most  humbly  to  me,  and  promise  to  behave 
better  in  the  future.  The  Captain  asked  me  if  that 
was  sufficient.  I replied  that  I was  satisfied,  and  that 
I was  through  with  the  Corporal  the  morning  after  he 
was  bucked  and  gagged.  I have  never  doubted,  that 
by  promptly  handling  the  case  exactly  as  I did  on  the 
train,  I had  prevented  a very  serious  disturbance  and 
some  bloodshed,  for  those  colored  comrades  of  the 
Corporal  would  otherwise  have  taken  the  matter  into 
their  own  hands  with  violence.  My  method  of  quiet- 
ing the  man  was  the  best  under  the  circumstances, 
as  was  proven  at  the  time  and  on  the  spot,  but  I 
would  not  advise  it  as  something  to  be  practiced  lightly 
and  without  feeling  very  sure. 

Fort  Sill  was,  at  the  time  of  our  arrival,  a very 
interesting  and  important  post.  The  Comanches 
and  Kiowas  lived  all  around  us,  and  were  frequent 
visitors,  and  sometimes  other  Indians  came  too. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


121 


There  were,  after  our  arrival,  four  companies  of  the 
24th  Infantry  and  two  troops  of  the  4th  Cavalry  at 
the  post,  under  Lieut.  Col.  J.  K.  Mizner,  4th  Cav. 

I was  at  Fort  Sill  only  about  two  months  that  time, 
but  that  was  long  enough  for  me  to  form  a liking  for 
the  place.  I saw  the  Indian  Agency  at  Anadarko,  and 
I had  a taste  of  the  good  hunting  south  of  the  post.  I 
was  relieved  from  the  command  of  my  company  by 
the  arrival  of  my  captain,  B.  M.  Custer,  who  had 
previously  been  quartermaster  of  the  24th  Infantry. 
I still  lived  in  the  same  set  of  quarters  with  my  class- 
mate, A.  A.  Augur,  now  promoted  out  of  the  company. 
He  found  his  captain  at  Fort  Sill,  too.  It  was  A.  C. 
Markley. 

About  that  time  there  was  organized  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Arkansas,  and  Mackenzie  was  the 
department  commander.  I received  an  autograph 
letter  from  him  informing  me  that  I was  to  go  to  Fort 
Elliott,  Texas,  for  temporary  duty  as  adjutant,  quar- 
termaster, commissary,  etc.,  etc.,  but  that  it  would  not 
be  for  long.  The  order  came  very  soon  afterwards, 
and  I felt  very  proud  that  I had  been  so  remembered 
by  Mackenzie,  for  whom  I always  retained  the  warm- 
est admiration. 

The  distance  was  about  140  miles,  and  the  road 
was  nearly  straight  across  to  Fort  Elliott,  being  used 
chiefly  by  the  horseback  mail  carriers  once  a week,  as 
a part  of  the  old  and  notorious  “Star  Route”  system 
which  was  then  in  use  and  which  a few  years  after- 
wards was  investigated  by  Congress  and  brought  some 
prominent  men  to  the  penitentiary.  The  road  led 
through  the  country  occupied  by  the  Kiowa  Indians, 
north  of  the  Wichita  Mountains. 

I was  given  a small  escort,  an  escort  wagon  and  a 


122 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Daugherty  wagon,  and  the  trip  was  a very  pleasant 
one,  the  road  passing  through  a country  which  was 
still  well  stocked  with  game.  I had  no  shot  gun, 
but  with  my  “Officers  Rifle”  I killed  a number  of 
turkeys  and  prairie  chickens  en  route,  and  I carried 
them  to  Fort  Elliott  where  I distributed  them,  thereby 
making  my  arrival  welcome. 

The  post  was  named  for  a major  of  the  7th  Cavalry 
who  had  been  killed  in  an  Indian  fight  in  that  neigh- 
borhood several  years  before,  and  the  post  commander 
that  I found  there  was  the  fine  officer  and  pleasant 
gentleman,  Lieut.  Col.  J.  P.  Hatch,  4th  Cavalry.  He 
made  my  numerous  duties  very  agreeable  to  me,  but  I 
did  not  have  him  long,  he  being  soon  promoted  and 
sent  to  the  2nd  Cavalry,  after  which  the  post  had 
several  post  commanders,  including  myself. 

The  garrison  was  composed  of  one  company  of  the 
24th  Infantry  (“G”)  commanded  by  its  Second 
Lieutenant,  Chas.  Dodge,  Jr.,  and  one  troop  of  the 
4th  Cavalry,  the  same  troop  that  I had  served  with  in 
the  field  on  the  lower  Rio  Grande  under  Hatfield. 
Officers  wrere  very  scarce  at  Fort  Elliott,  and  as  a 
consequence  I commanded  at  the  same  time  the  troop 
and  at  another  time  the  company,  in  addition  to  my 
various  regular  duties  as  staff  officer  and  sometimes  in 
addition  to  those  of  post  commander. 

Game  was  very  plentiful  in  that  vicinity,  and  I 
enjoyed  the  hunting  very  much.  I soon  became  the 
possessor  of  a fine  shot  gun  of  English  make,  a Scott 
double  barrel,  12  gauge.  It  happened  in  this  way. 
Capt.  Clarence  Ewen,  the  post  surgeon,  was  relieved 
and  he  raffled  off  his  shot  gun  for  $80,  at  $5  a chance,  at 
the  post  trader’s  establishment.  I did  not  at  first  take 
a chance,  being  absent,  but  I entered  the  room  where 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


123 


the  raffling  was  going  on  and  learned  that  only  five 
throws  had  been  made,  and  that  in  throwing  the  dice 
two  men  had  made  42,  which  is  very  high,  and  hard  to 
make.  One  of  the  owners  of  these  two  lucky  throws 
said  that  he  would  sell  his  chance  for  $15,  which  I 
promptly  accepted  and  paid  him  for. 

The  raffling  continued,  but  no  one  else  made  as 
high  as  42.  Then  the  bartender,  who  had  in  throwing 
the  dice  for  an  absent  man  made  the  other  42,  offered 
to  sell  me  the  chance  for  $30,  buy  my  chance  for  $30, 
or  throw  the  dice  for  the  gun.  I had  no  faith  in  my 
own  luck,  or  ability  to  throw  the  dice  so  I quickly  paid 
him  $30,  and  thus  became  the  owner  of  a good  $100 
shot  gun  and  a supply  of  ammunition,  all  for  $45.  I 
never  regretted  that  deal.  The  gun  was  all  that  it 
looked  to  be,  and  with  it  and  my  “Officers  rifle”  I was 
ready  for  any  kind  of  game,  and  the  mess  that  I be- 
longed to  was  always  glad  to  have  me  in  it. 

There  was  then  at  Fort  Elliott  one  of  the  old  time 
scouts  and  Indian  fighters  who  had  seen  good  service 
on  the  plains  a few  years  before,  having  been  in  the 
fight  at  the  “Adobe  Walls.”  His  name  was  Bill 
Dixon,  and  he  was  a fine  specimen  physically,  and  a 
good  hunter  and  scout,  but  he  was  sometimes  inclined 
to  drink  too  much  for  his  own  good. 

About  September  20,  1881,  I took  him  with  me  in 
the  Daugherty  wagon  on  a short  hunting  trip,  north- 
west of  the  post,  towards  the  Canadian  River  about 
30  miles  away.  The  first  night  I killed  a turkey,  next 
day  Dixon  killed  two  deer,  and  on  the  morning  after 
we  started  home,  a very  short  hunt.  Soon  after 
leaving  camp  we  bagged  several  ducks  at  a pond  near 
the  road,  and  a few  miles  further  on  I got  an  antelope. 
About  the  middle  of  the  day  we  saw  two  antelopes 


124 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


some  600  yards  away,  grazing.  We  got  out  of  our 
wagon  and  crawled  on  our  hands  and  knees  to  within 
300  yards  of  them  when  they  took  alarm,  and  one  ran 
away  quite  a distance  and  stopped,  both  facing  us 
and  giving  no  good  mark  to  shoot  at. 

We  remained  absolutely  motionless  for  what  seemed 
a long  time,  waiting  for  a better  target.  Pretty  soon 
the  more  distant  antelope  came  trotting  back  to  the 
other,  and  then  we  got  ready  to  shoot.  I said  to 
Dixon,  “You  take  the  one  running  up,  and  I’ll  shoot 
at  the  other  one.  I’ll  give  the  word  this  time.”  (He 
had  given  the  word  when  we  fired  at  the  turkeys  on  the 
roost  the  first  night  out.)  At  my  word  we  fired 
together,  and  my  antelope  dropped,  badly  wounded, 
and  Dixon’s  antelope  began  running  around  mine 
and  not  going  far  from  it.  We  kept  up  a slow  fire  at 
the  unwounded  animal,  doing  our  best  shooting. 

Each  had  fired  several  shots  when  I distinctly 
heard,  immediately  following  one  of  my  shots,  a sound 
like  that  made  by  a small  shot  falling  on  paper,  and 
then  I knew  that  I had  hit  the  second  antelope  too, 
and  I promptly  called,  “I  hit,  I heard  it  strike.” 
That  sound  can  be  heard  any  day  on  the  target  range. 
The  antelope  ran  off  slowly,  at  a trot.  We  followed 
and  found  both  of  them,  each  having  only  one  bullet 
hole. 

I gave  the  word  for  firing  together  because  when 
we  were  under  the  turkey  roost  the  first  night  out 
Dixon  gave  the  word,  and  I did  not  like  his  way  of 
giving  it,  although  I had  killed  a turkey  then  and 
Dixon  got  none. 

We  resumed  our  travel  homewards,  and  we  saw, 
in  a series  of  ponds  about  ten  miles  from  Fort  Elliott, 
lots  of  ducks.  In  an  hour  or  two  we  had  about  thirty 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


125 


of  them,  and  then  we  moved  on,  but  we  had  not  gone 
far  before  we  saw  something  else  to  shoot  at.  We  got 
eight  or  ten  fine  plover.  It  required  a bit  of  ingenuity 
to  find  a way  to  carry  all  our  game  in  that  Daugherty 
wagon.  We  had  to  sling  several  animals  under  the 
wagon  in  cut  gunny  sacks  and  a rawhide  which  was 
always  carried  in  that  position,  for  what  other  purpose 
I know  not. 

On  another  occasion  we  went  southward  into  Greer 
Country  for  a several  days’  hunt,  and  this  time  my 
classmate  Wilder,  of  the  4th  Cavalry  was  along.  Our 
hunt  was  a very  successful  one  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  I failed  to  kill  a single  turkey  out  of  eight  that  I 
shot  at  in  the  night  while  they  were  on  their  roosts. 
When  I found  my  ninth  turkey  I called  another  man 
to  come  and  shoot  it.  I had  my  good  shot  gun,  but  I 
had  not  then  learned  to  point  it  in  the  dark  when  not 
able  to  see  the  sight. 

John  P.  Hatch  being  promoted,  and  the  4th  Cavalry 
troop  leaving  soon  afterwards,  we  had  Capt.  Michael 
Cooney  and  his  troop  of  the  9th  Cavalry  with  us.  My 
classmate  “Daisy”  Day  was  the  second  lieutenant  of 
Cooney’s  troop. 

I had  heard  so  much  of  Capt.  Cooney’s  eccentrici- 
ties that  I was  constantly  on  the  watch  to  see  some- 
thing resembling  what  I had  heard  of  him.  I was 
doomed  to  disappointment.  I found  him  to  be  a very 
careful,  exceedingly  proper  and  most  punctilious,  and 
withal  a very  efficient  officer  and  a most  agreeable 
gentleman. 

In  those  days  the  only  cultivated  land  in  the  vicinity 
of  Fort  Elliott  was  a small  piece  of  irrigated  ground 
a few  miles  from  the  post.  Mobeetie  was  the  name 
of  the  town  just  outside  of  the  reservation.  The 


126 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


North  Fork  of  Red  River  was  six  or  eight  miles  to  the 
south  of  us,  and  sometimes  I went  there,  hunting.  On 
one  occasion  I took  my  rifle,  thinking  that  I might  see 
a deer,  or  perhaps  an  antelope.  Finding  no  big  game 
I began  to  hunt  ducks,  and  by  crawling  up  to  within 
80  yards  of  at  least  200  big  red  headed  ducks,  very 
densely  bunched  together  in  shallow  water,  I killed 
or  mortally  wounded  at  one  shot  four  of  them.  I was 
on  a dead  level  with  the  flock,  and  could  not  see 
through  it  at  one  place,  and  right  there  I aimed.  My 
bullet  could  not  have  passed  through  the  flock  at 
that  spot  without  hitting  several.  I had  only  to  get 
the  correct  elevation,  and  I must  have  done  it. 

On  another  occasion,  and  in  that  same  locality  I 
saw  approaching  me  on  a narrow  path,  four  small 
animals  walking  abreast,  with  heads  close  together. 
Soon  I discovered  that  they  were  skunks,  or  “prairie 
queens,”  as  they  were  called  in  the  Panhandle,  and  I 
gave  them  the  path.  I had  my  shot  gun  this  time,  and 
I took  position  some  20  yards  from  the  path  and 
waited  for  the  line  of  skunks  to  get  opposite  to  me, 
so  as  to  give  me  an  opportunity  to  hit  all  of  them  at 
one  shot.  When  the  line  arrived  exactly  where  I 
wanted  it  I fired.  Four  skunks  struggled  in  death 
agony,  and  any  one  acquainted  with  that  animal 
can  guess  what  sort  of  an  odor  went  up  from  them 
with  the  spray  which  I saw  them  emit.  I found  that 
I was  too  close,  so  I moved  off  a little.  Those  skunks 
and  one  rattlesnake  constituted  my  entire  game  bag 
that  day. 

While  serving  at  Fort  Elliott  I often  observed  a 
prisoner  dragging  a ball  and  chain.  He  was  a very 
tall,  powerful,  finely  formed  colored  soldier  of  the 
24th  Infantry  who  had  claimed  on  arrival  at  the  post 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


127 


that  one  of  his  knees  was  stiff  from  rheumatism.  The 
man’s  company  had  shortly  before  marched  down 
from  Dodge  City,  Kansas  in  very  cold  weather. 
The  soldier’s  ailment  would  not  respond  to  treatment 
for  rheumatism  at  the  post  hospital,  and  the  symp- 
toms, as  given  by  the  patient,  did  not  satisfy  the 
Post  Surgeon.  The  soldier,  Pvt.  Maulby,  walked 
day  after  day  with  a stiff  leg,  and  the  surgeon  was 
greatly  puzzled.  Finally  he  decided  to  take  the  man 
into  the  hospital  where  the  patient  could  be  better 
looked  after  and  watched. 

It  did  not  take  the  surgeon  long  to  be  convinced  that 
the  big  fellow  was  malingering,  and  to  verify  his  belief 
he  had  the  man  put  under  the  influence  of  chloroform 
for  a few  minutes.  It  required  the  strength  of  several 
men  to  hold  Maulby  while  the  chloroform  was  being 
administered,  and  just  as  he  regained  consciousness 
out  went  that  leg,  stiff  as  a poker,  but  too  late.  While 
unconscious  the  man’s  two  legs  were  the  same,  not  the 
slightest  difference  between  them.  The  soldier  was 
then  confined  in  the  guard  house,  and  charges  for 
malingering  were  preferred  against  him.  But  the  leg 
continued  stiff,  and  the  man  becoming  unruly  he  was 
put  under  ball  and  chain,  and  he  walked  about  in  that 
condition  with  leg  just  as  stiff  as  ever. 

I was  a member  of  the  General  Court  Martial  which 
tried  and  convicted  him  of  malingering,  and  Maulby 
was  sent  to  the  Military  Prison,  at  Fort  Leavenworth, 
Kansas.  For  months  he  carried  a stiff  leg,  even  with 
ball  and  chain,  and  had  shown  wonderful  endurance 
and  fortitude.  Lieut.  Dodge,  his  company  com- 
mander, was  somewhat  conscience  smitten  and  ill 
at  ease  when  the  big  fellow  had  to  go  to  Fort  Leaven- 
worth. But,  a few  weeks  later  Dodge  went  up  to 


128 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Fort  Leavenworth  on  a short  visit,  and  soon  he  wrote 
me  a letter  expressing  great  satisfaction.  He  told 
me  of  a visit  to  the  military  prison  and  of  seeing  his 
giant  of  a cripple  ( !)  walking  about  as  well  as  any  man, 
and  said  that  the  big  negro  actually  gave  him  a pro- 
nounced wink  as  he  passed  by,  close  to  him.  Private 
Maulby  was  not  the  only  soldier  who  has  exhibited 
wonderful  nerve,  persistence,  intelligence  and  fortitude 
while  endeavoring  to  fraudulently  obtain  a discharge 
on  Surgeon’s  Certificate  of  Disability. 

In  October,  1881,  I was  preparing  for  a hunt  up  on 
the  headwaters  of  the  Red  River,  near  the  fine  ranches 
of  Mr.  Adair,  who  had  as  his  foreman  at  that  time 
Charles  Goodnight.  Goodnight  now  owns,  I believe, 
one  of  those  ranches.  He  was  one  of  the  strong 
characters  with  which  our  country  has  been  blessed  on 
the  frontier,  and  was  an  excellent  business  man, 
doing  well  for  his  employer  and  for  himself.  Just  as  I 
was  almost  ready  to  start  on  my  hunt  for  the  few 
remaining  buffaloes  of  the  huge  south  herd  which  I saw 
in  1871  heavy  rains  came  and  gave  plenty  of  water 
on  the  plains,  too  far  away  to  follow  the  buffalo. 
That  was  my  last  opportunity  to  hunt  the  buffalo. 

Forts  Sill  and  Elliott,  in  those  days,  were  located 
in  good  game  country,  and  hunting  was  comparatively 
easy.  Near  Fort  Sill,  in  the  Wichita  Mountains,  were 
said  to  be  seven  elks,  but  we  never  hunted  them  in 
hope  that  they  would  soon  increase  in  number,  if 
undisturbed.  We  lost  out,  for  others  did  hunt  them, 
and  the  animals  disappeared  before  the  rifles  of  the 
Kickapoo  Indians.  We  had,  near  both  places,  ante- 
lope, deer,  turkeys,  and  other  fine  game  birds  in 
abundance. 

After  about  nine  months’  service  at  Fort  Elliott  I 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


129 


was  ordered  to  the  Agricultural  and  Mechanical 
College  of  Texas,  located  near  Bryan,  there  to  serve 
as  Commandant  of  Cadets.  I had  known  of  the  va- 
cancy there,  but  I did  not  want  it,  and  did  not  know  of 
anyone  trying  to  get  it  for  me,  but  I believe  that  a 
Doctor  Lewis,  then  living  at  Mobeetie,  was  partly 
responsible  for  my  detail. 

About  the  end  of  December,  1881,  I took  the  stage 
for  Dodge  City,  Kansas,  190  miles  away,  there  to  take 
the  cars  for  Kansas  City  and  Texas.  The  stage  ride 
was  an  awfully  cold  one.  I stopped  half  an  hour  at 
Fort  Supply,  then  Regimental  Headquarters,  24th 
Infantry.  I also  stopped  a day  or  two  in  Mobile  and 
New  Orleans  with  relatives.  I arrived  at  College 
Station  early  in  January,  1882,  and  promptly  assumed 
my  new  duties,  messing  with  several  bachelor  pro- 
fessors in  the  cadet  mess,  and  rooming  in  one  of  the 
houses  set  aside  for  professors.  John  G.  James, 
previously  in  charge  of  a military  school  at  Austin,  was 
President.  He  was  also  a graduate  from  the  V.  M.  I. 
second  only  to  West  Point  in  many  respects. 


CHAPTER  V 


I have  considered  my  two  years  at  the  Agricultural 
and  Mechanical  College  of  Texas  as  most  valuable 
experience,  well  worth  the  long  stage  ride  in  very  cold 
weather.  I was  the  second  regular  Army  officer  to  be 
detailed  there,  the  first  having  been  Capt.  “Pomp” 
Olmstead,  “U.  S.  Army.”  At  the  College  I heard 
many  interesting  stories,  showing  that  my  predecessor 
had  not  been  very  strict,  and  I found  the  Professor  of 
Philosophy,  a former  graduate  of  the  V.  M.  I.  acting  as 
Commandant  of  Cadets  in  addition  to  his  other  duties. 
However,  the  senior  cadet  captain,  Silas  Hare,  Jr., 
relieved  him  of  a great  part  of  military  work. 

I found  the  cadets  sadly  in  need  of  me,  and  I 
promptly  went  to  work  and  gave  the  cadets  lots  of 
military  discipline  and  instruction  in  every  direction. 

The  faculty  was  glad  enough  to  allow  me  all  the  time 
I requested,  provided  it  did  not  interfere  with  the  time 
allowed  them  respectively.  I began  at  the  beginning, 
with  instruction  in  the  School  of  the  Soldier  without 
arms,  and  I carried  it  up  to  include  all  battalion  exer- 
cises, also  ceremonies.  After  a while  I substituted  on 
Saturday  mornings  instruction  in  the  use  of  the  old  3- 
inch  muzzle  loading  field  piece,  dismounted,  in  place 
of  the  infantry  drills,  and  still  later  I carefully  in- 
structed in  target  practice  the  first  two  classes,  and 
gave  them  firing  at  ranges  to  include  300  yards. 

iso 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


131 


In  addition,  I got  up  the  regulations  for  the  Military 
Department  of  the  College,  adapting  and  changing  to 
suit  the  new  conditions  the  Academic  Regulations  then 
in  use  at  the  Military  Academy. 

I gave  limited  instruction  to  some  members  of  the 
senior  class  in  the  drill  textbook  then  authorized,  also 
in  fencing.  This  latter  instruction  in  the  drill  text- 
book and  in  fencing  was  optional,  and  not  many  chose 
the  extra  work.  I used  all  the  time  allowed  me. 

My  work  was  very  interesting.  It  was,  at  the  same 
time,  very  instructive  and  beneficial  to  me,  and  the 
record  and  career  of  the  Military  Department  of  the 
College  show  that  my  time,  care  and  labor  were  well 
spent.  The  cadets  were  eager  to  learn.  At  first  they 
showed  that  they  felt  very  keenly  their  ignorance  and 
awkwardness,  and  that  made  them  work  the  harder 
and  improve  the  faster,  and  their  improvement  was 
very  fast  and  very  evident.  I encouraged  competi- 
tion between  individuals  and  organizations,  and  I 
tried  to  reward  merit,  and  to  punish  intentional 
violation  of  regulations  and  bad  conduct  generally. 

When  a cadet  showed  that  he  was  inclined  to  be 
incorrigible  I secured  his  suspension  from  the  in- 
stitution for  a short  time.  A suspended  cadet  rarely 
returned  to  duty,  and  my  object  was  gained  without 
having  the  stigma  of  expulsion  attached  to  the  boy’s 
name.  It  was  necessary  that  discipline  should  be 
strict,  and  promptly  administered. 

On  April  1st,  1883  I was  sitting  in  my  office  early  in 
the  morning,  with  a cadet  standing  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table,  facing  me.  We  heard  shouting  out  in 
the  field  surrounding  the  buildings,  and  looking  out  to 
ascertain  the  cause  we  saw  15  or  20  cadets  running 
about,  their  actions  suggesting  to  me  the  chase  of  a 


132 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


swarm  of  bees,  fugitive  from  their  hive.  I expressed 
my  wonder  at  what  I saw.  The  cadet  smiled  faintly, 
and  said,  “It  is  April  the  first,  Sir.” 

“Oh,  yes,  I understand,  it’s  April  Fools’  Day,”  I 
replied. 

“Yes,  Sir,”  the  cadet  said. 

I looked  hard  at  the  cadets  running  in  the  field 
and  asked,  “Isn’t  that  Cadet  Lieutenant  Robert 
Green  in  the  lead  ? ” and  the  youngster  replied,  “Yes, 
Sir.” 

“And  isn’t  that  big  fellow  in  the  middle  Cadet  First 
Sergeant  Williams?” 

Again  he  answered,  “Yes,  Sir.” 

“Now,  wait  a minute,” I said,  and  I quickly  wrote  in 
pencil  the  rough  draft  of  an  order  reducing  to  the  ranks 
both  the  cadet  officers  named,  and  I read  the  order 
aloud  to  the  cadet  standing  before  me,  and  then  I 
continued : 

“That  is  my  part  of  this  April  Fools’  Day  celebration. 
The  order  will  be  on  the  bulletin  board  in  a few 
minutes,  and  you  are  at  liberty  to  say  that  you  saw 
me  write  it,  and  that  it  goes  into  effect  immediately. 
Those  two  cadet  officers  will  return  to  barracks  as 
privates.” 

That,  and  other  similar  examples  of  prompt  dis- 
cipline had  excellent  effect,  and  I found  that  the  boy 
thus  disciplined  seldom  retained  any  grudge  against 
me  on  account  of  it.  I have  heard  of  only  one  case 
of  grudge  retained,  and  the  name  of  that  boy  has  been 
before  the  public  a great  deal  during  the  past  10  or  15 
years.  He  was  always  very  bright,  and  very  bold. 
While  working  with  my  brother  Tom  on  a railroad 
engineering  detail  he  informed  Tom  that  I had  not 
treated  him  justly. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


133 


The  cause  of  that  cadet’s  ill  will  may  be  seen  from 
the  following  incident  which  happened  some  time 
during  the  senior  year  of  the  class  of  1883. 

One  night,  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  after  cadet  “call  to 
quarters,”  when  cadets  had  no  proper  business  outside 
of  their  barracks,  I saw  pass  my  quarters,  on  the 
“professor’s  row,”  two  cadets  of  the  senior  class,  both 
high  up  commissioned  cadet  officers. 

I recognized  the  two  cadets  and  followed  them  to 
their  barracks  to  see  what  they  would  tell  the  cadet 
sentinel  on  post.  After  full  and  careful  investigation 
I found  that  the  big,  bold  fellow  had  given  the  sentinel 
a false  report,  and  for  that  he  was  reduced  to  the  ranks. 
I could  get  no  proof  that  the  other  cadet  had  made 
any  report  at  all  to  the  sentinel,  and  I could  punish 
him  only  for  failure  to  do  so. 

It  is  possible  that  I did  not  learn  all  that  actually 
happened  when  the  two  cadets  came  on  that  sentinel’s 
post,  and  that  the  big  fellow  thought  that  I knew  more 
than  I really  did  know. 

The  other  cadet  was  my  guest  for  a few  hours  a year 
or  two  afterwards,  at  the  Indian  Agency,  Anardarko, 
I.  T.  During  this  short  time  he  intimated  that  it  was 
his  impression  that  I had  been  partial  to  him  when  he 
was  a cadet.  He  being  my  guest  I could  only  dis- 
claim any  intention  to  give  him  more  than  he  had 
deserved  in  anything,  but  I had  an  idea  that  he  was 
thinking  of  the  incident  described. 

One  night  40  or  50  cadets  walked  to  Bryan  to  see  a 
circus,  being  unable  to  obtain  permission  to  do  so. 
The  sentinels  in  barracks  were  ordered  to  record  the 
exact  hour  of  each  cadet’s  return  to  barracks,  and  to 
submit  next  morning  each  the  record  of  his  work. 
All  the  cadet  officers  were  reduced  to  the  ranks, 


134 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


promptly,  and  the  others  received  demerits.  Two 
cadet  captains  were  among  those  reduced. 

The  A.  & M.  College  of  Texas  is  one  of  our  best 
institutions  in  more  than  one  respect,  especially  in  its 
military  department.  Many  times  it  has  been 
designated  by  Army  inspectors  as  one  of  those  entitled 
to  give  the  Army  a second  lieutenant  without  a book 
examination.  I have  always  felt  great  satisfaction  in 
remembering  the  share  I had  in  bringing  up  the  stand- 
ard of  the  institution. 

I enjoyed  very  much  the  society  of  the  professors 
and  their  families.  During  the  summer  months  I 
went  where  I pleased,  there  being  at  that  time  no  other 
duty  for  officers  detailed  as  I was.  I spent  part  of  the 
summers  of  1882  and  1883  at  the  old  Hygeia  Hotel, 
Old  Point  Comfort,  Va.,  just  outide  of  Fort  Monroe. 
It  was  a most  agreeable  resort  all  the  year  round.  At 
the  Hygeia  I enjoyed  especially  the  fine  soft  shell 
crabs  and  other  delightful  eating  furnished  there,  and 
I became  quite  an  expert  in  swimming.  One  day, 
Odium,  a professional  swimmer,  swam  across  to 
Virginia  Point  and  back.  He  said  that  his  only 
trouble  was  with  sea  nettles,  a disagreeable  breed  of 
jelly  fish  with  long  feelers.  Afterwards  Odium  lost 
his  life  in  a leap  from  the  Eads  Bridge,  at  St.  Louis, 
Mo. 

While  swimming  in  front  of  the  hotel  one  day  several 
of  us  saved  the  life  of  an  excursionist  from  Baltimore, 
and  the  fellow  did  not  even  ask  us  our  names,  or  thank 
us. 

I spent  several  days  of  the  summer  of  1882  at 
Lampasas,  Texas,  where  there  are  some  fine  springs 
and  good  hotels.  I left  there  about  July  second,  or 
third,  and  before  leaving  I saw  there,  in  cages,  many 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


135 


hundred  wild  pigeons  which  had  been  sent  down  from 
Oklahoma  for  some  live  bird  trap  shooting  to  be  held 
on  July  4th.  It  was  said  that  there  were  2000  pigeons 
thus  held,  having  been  caught  at  night  from  their 
roosts  in  the  woods. 

While  I was  at  Fort  Monroe  during  part  of  the 
summer  of  1883  I stayed  a week  or  two  with  my  class- 
mate of  1876  class,  in  the  house  which  had  once  been 
occupied  by  Jefferson  Davis,  when  a prisoner  there. 
The  house  was  Hamilton  Rowan’s  quarters  in  1883. 

About  the  last  week  in  August,  or  the  first  week  of 
September,  1883,  when  returning  from  my  summer 
vacation,  I stopped  over  for  several  days  in  Mobile, 
Ala.,  with  my  good  aunt  Mrs.  Sarah  Walker,  my 
mother’s  sister. 

My  aunt  had  a fine,  sister  Baptist  girl  she  wanted 
me  to  see,  and  I found  the  young  lady  very  attractive. 

One  day  I took  the  girl  out  driving,  getl  ing  from  the 
livery  stable  a large,  spirited,  dark  bay  horse.  We 
went  down  the  river,  on  the  shell  road,  for  five  or  six 
miles,  before  turning  back.  My  horse  was  such  a 
fast  traveller  that,  apparently  without  effort,  he  easily 
passed  other  horses. 

Among  the  vehicles  thus  passed  on  our  way  back 
was  one  containing  an  old  farmer  looking  man  and 
country  looking  lady,  apparently  his  wife.  Their 
horse  was  a large,  fine  looking  bay,  with  ordinary  trot 
not  as  fast  as  that  of  my  horse.  As  we  passed  that 
buggy  I noticed  that  the  old  lady  didn’t  like  it  one 
little  bit.  She  was  evidently  very  indignant. 

After  going  less  than  half  a mile  I heard  a buggy 
coming  up  from  the  rear  to  pass  us,  and  looking  over 
my  shoulder  I saw  the  old  farmer  and  his  wife.  She 
was  sitting  up  very  straight,  with  eyes  to  the  front 


136 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


and  chin  raised.  Apparently  she  was  saying  to  her- 
self, “We’ll  show  you,”  and  they  did  show  us  that 
they  had  an  unusually  swift  buggy  horse.  But,  if  I 
had  not  held  in  my  horse,  the  old  lady  would  have 
stayed  behind  us. 

A few  minutes  later  another  buggy  showed  intention 
of  passing  us.  Two  men  were  in  it,  and  the  horse  was 
a large,  light  colored  grey. 

I noticed  that  my  horse  did  not  like  to  be  passed  by 
that  horse,  and  he  showed  it  plainly  by  increasing 
his  speed  notwithstanding  my  efforts  to  allow  the 
other  buggy  to  go  ahead.  In  spite  of  such  efforts  of 
mine,  both  buggies  went  faster  and  faster. 

After  some  distance  thus  travelled  I saw  the  river 
bank  close  on  our  right  flank,  and  a fence  close  on  the 
other  side,  and  I tried  real  hard  to  hold  in  my  horse 
so  as  to  allow  the  other  buggy  to  pass  us,  and  my  horse 
simply  wouldn’t  do  it.  There  we  were,  neck  and  neck, 
with  the  hubs  of  our  buggy  wheels  almost  touching, 
the  other  buggy  being  on  the  side  next  to  the  river. 
My  horse  was  the  faster  trotter  and  was  gaining  on  the 
other,  but  the  grey  horse  then  began  to  run. 

At  that  moment  I took  a look  at  my  companion, 
and  to  my  surprise  she  was  enjoying  immensely  that 
very  dangerous  drive,  showing  it  plainly  by  her  smile. 
I wasn’t  enjoying  it  just  at  that  time.  After  making 
my  best  effort  to  persuade  my  horse  to  allow  the  other 
buggy  to  pass  us,  and  seeing  that  he  would  not  be 
persuaded  by  all  the  force  I could  bring  to  bear  on 
him,  I tried  to  make  my  horse  increase  his  trot  so  as  to 
pull  ahead,  and  then  I saw  plainly  that  the  other  man 
was  racing  with  me,  for  he  made  his  horse  run  faster. 

I was  very  angry  at  being  made  to  race  under  such 
circumstances,  but  the  danger  was  not  lessening,  so  I 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


137 


used  my  whip  for  the  first  time,  and  this  made  my 
horse  bound  ahead  at  a run  and  immediately  leave  the 
other  horse  behind.  Then,  while  well  ahead  of  the 
other  buggy  and  running  through  the  thin  piney  woods 
on  my  good  shell  road,  I saw  ahead  of  me  a long 
freight  train  which  would  soon  cross  my  road.  On 
each  side  of  the  road  were  many  small  excavated 
places  from  which  the  earth  had  been  taken  to  raise 
the  road  bed,  thus  making  it  impossible  for  me  to 
leave  the  road  with  my  buggy  at  full  speed. 

Therefore  I was  compelled  to  keep  up  a breakneck 
speed  in  order  to  beat  the  freight  train  to  the  road 
crossing.  I beat  the  freight  train,  and  gradually 
bringing  my  horse  under  control  I drove  on  in  to 
Mobile.  After  stopping  a few  minutes  at  the  resi- 
dence of  my  companion  I drove  to  the  livery  stable  and 
gave  up  the  buggy. 

While  I was  paying  the  bill  the  man  at  the  desk 
remarked,  “You  had  a nice  race,  didn’t  you  ?” 

I blurted  out,  “Yes,  I had  a race,  but  how  did  you 
know  it?” 

The  livery  man  smiled  as  he  replied,  “The  boss 
has  just  returned,  and  he  told  me  all  about  it.” 

In  answer  to  further  questions  from  me  he  said  that 
I had  been  given  the  fastest  horse  in  the  stable,  and 
that  the  boss  had  gone  out  with  the  next  fastest  horse, 
and  meeting  me  out  on  the  road  he  thought  he  would 
give  the  relative  speed  of  the  two  animals  another  test. 
It  was  useless  to  be  angry,  but  I had  to  tell  the  man 
how  I didn’t  like  being  forced  to  race  under  such 
conditions. 

At  the  commencement  exercises  of  the  A.  &.  M. 
College  the  military  features  were  always  the  most 
attractive  to  the  visiting  people.  At  both  com- 


138 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


mencements  during  my  stay  there  we  had  all  sorts  of 
drills,  also  target  practice.  I contributed  prizes  to 
the  best  drilled  man,  also  to  the  best  shot. 

When  I first  reported  for  duty  the  cadets  were 
ignorant  of  the  first  principles  of  drill,  but  their 
improvement  had  been  so  rapid  that  they  begged  me 
to  arrange  a competition  with  the  best  drilled  militia 
companies  of  the  state.  At  that  time  the  Houston 
Light  Guards  had  the  best  drilled  company  in  Texas, 
and  soon  afterwards  that  company  took  first  prize 
from  many  competing  companies  of  the  Southern 
States.  I used  to  see  them  drill  just  prior  to  going  off 
to  compete,  and  I had  to  admire  their  excellent 
performance. 

While  I was  at  the  A.  & M.  College  my  brother 
Will  lost  his  daughter  Golda  and  came  very  near 
losing  his  only  son,  who  had  been  named  for  me.  I 
went  to  Houston  and  spent  four  days  nursing  the  boy, 
and  I believe  that  my  assistance  was  of  great  benefit. 

I was  relieved  from  duty  at  the  college  in  November, 
1883,  and  I was  much  surprised  to  receive  from  the 
cadets  a nice  present  as  a mark  of  their  esteem  and 
good  will.  I proceeded  to  join  my  station,  Fort  Sill, 
via  San  Antonio,  so  as  to  see  some  of  my  old  com- 
rades again.  As  I passed  through  Austin  ex-First 
Sergeant  Williams  and  young  Hedrick  followed  me  to 
the  newly  begun  State  Capitol  building  which  I had 
gone  to  look  at,  and  the  two  youngsters  took  me 
driving  all  over  the  city,  and  their  good  will  was  very 
evident.  I had  had  occasion  to  discipline  both  of 
those  young  men  at  the  college.  They  showed  their 
good  sense,  and  a fine  spirit  in  their  treatment  of 
me  at  Austin. 

As  soon  as  I arrived  at  the  Menger  Hotel,  in  San 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


139 


Antonio,  Robert  Green’s  father,  a prominent  judge, 
called  on  me,  and  so  did  an  ex-cadet  named  Storey,  in 
both  cases  showing  keen  appreciation  of  my  efforts  to 
be  just  and  efficient  as  Commandant  of  Cadets. 

All  those  youngsters  showed  the  proper  spirit. 
Robert  Green  became  one  of  San  Antonio’s  finest 
judges,  and  one  of  her  best  citizens.  I do  not  know 
what  became  of  the  others  except  that  I saw  Hedrick 
in  New  Orleans  in  the  summer  of  1898,  as  sergeant  in 
the  1st  Immunes. 

While  I was  in  San  Antonio  I went  to  see  my  old 
friends  of  the  4th  Cavalry,  Dorst  and  his  former 
colonel,  at  last  promoted  to  brigadier  general  and  at 
that  time  commanding  the  Department  of  Texas.  I 
went  to  see  Ranald  S.  Mackenzie  as  much  as  his 
former  adjutant,  then  his  aide  de  camp.  I have 
always  retained  for  Mackenzie  a very  kind  feeling, 
and  great  admiration  for  him  both  as  soldier  and 
gentleman.  For  years  he  was  our  beau  ideal  of  what 
an  officer  should  be.  He  was  our  model.  And  my 
feelings  for  my  first  cadet  captain  at  West  Point,  J.  H. 
Dorst,  who  had  been  kind  to  me  when  I was  a plebe, 
only  increased  in  strength  and  warmth  during  our  long 
service  as  officers.  He  was  a fine  officer,  and  should 
have  become  a general. 

I found  General  Mackenzie  greatly  changed  in 
appearance;  he  had  lost  flesh  and  erectness  of  carriage. 
Even  his  head  seemed  to  have  lost  part  of  its  splendid 
shape  and  size.  His  actions  plainly  indicated  the 
fate  which  was  fast  overtaking  him.  The  Army  lost 
one  of  its  finest  representatives  when  Mackenzie 
became  insane.  While  in  San  Antonio  I was  his  guest 
at  dinner  once,  and  I then  saw  other  changes  in  him. 
Major  Arnold,  Ordnance  Department,  was  also  a 


140 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


guest  at  the  same  dinner.  Arnold  had  been  his  class- 
mate. Mackenzie  was  very  soon  after  taken  to  the 
insane  asylum  at  St.  Elizabeth,  New  Jersey,  in  about 
two  weeks,  I believe. 

During  the  Civil  War  Mackenzie  attracted  the 
attention  of  General  U.  S.  Grant  to  a greater  extent, 
and  with  more  approbation  than  any  other  officer  of 
his  age  or  rank.  He  was  surely  gifted  in  military 
talents  to  a very  unusual  degree,  and  Grant  only 
showed  his  usual  insight  into  character  as  regarded 
military  ability  when  he  selected  so  young  an  officer 
for  his  very  favorable  commendation,  in  his  Memoirs. 
Mackenzie  left  a lasting  impression  on  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  a great  many  officers,  especially  the  young 
and  energetic  ones. 

On  reporting  for  duty  at  Fort  Sill  I found  that  post 
commanded  by  Major  Guy  V.  Henry,  9th  Cavalry,  a 
most  energetic  and  efficient  officer,  afterwards  a 
general  officer  and  very  deservedly  so.  He  was  at 
that  time  giving  great  attention  to  target  practice, 
and  his  post  had  during  the  previous  year  won  first 
place,  almost  entirely  due  to  his  restless  energy,  and 
great  interest  in  the  first  duty  of  a soldier. 

I fell  in  command  of  my  company  (“C”),  and  soon 
had  a fine  youngster  from  civil  life  given  me  as  second 
lieutenant.  Charles  Nicoll  Clinch  was  his  name,  and 
he  was  the  nephew  of  Mrs.  A.  T.  Stewart.  He  had 
been  educated  chiefly  in  England  and  France,  and 
looked,  acted  and  thought  more  like  an  Englishman 
than  like  an  American.  He  afterwards  transferred  to 
the  cavalry,  and  died  from  the  effects  of  a carbuncle  on 
his  neck  while  still  a second  lieutenant  and  a powerful 
man. 

My  captain,  then  absent,  was  B.  M.  Custer,  who 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


141 


had  succeeded  to  the  vacancy  created  by  the  appoint- 
ment of  Henry  C.  Corbin  as  major  and  assistant  ad- 
jutant general.  In  his  new  branch  of  the  service 
Corbin  gained  the  highest  rank  then  attainable,  and  he 
well  deserved  it. 

It  was  queer  how  the  letter  C predominal  ed  to  such 
an  extent  in  the  names  of  the  officers  of  Company 
“C.”  While  Corbin  was  captain  I succeeded 
“Johnnie”  Clem  as  first  lieutenant,  and  a couple  of 
years  later  Custer  took  Corbin’s  place  and  Clinch  came 
to  us  as  second  lieutenant,  an  unusual  collection  of 
names  beginning  with  C. 

There  were  then  stationed  at  Fort  Sill  four  com- 
panies of  the  24th  Infantry  and  two  troops  of  the 
9th  Cavalry.  The  post  commander  who  succeeded 
Henry  was  not  so  aggressive,  but  he,  too,  was  very 
efficient,  and  I liked  him  very  much.  Major  Benteen 
had  been  captain  in  the  7th  Cavalry,  and  had  taken 
a prominent  and  creditable  part  in  the  campaign  and 
battle  which  culminated  in  the  “Custer  Massacre”  at 
the  Battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn  River.  He  com- 
manded one  of  the  three  detachments  into  which 
General  Custer  divided  the  7th  Cavalry  that  day, 
early  in  the  morning,  and  his  description  of  what  he 
saw  and  took  part  in  was  very  interesting  and 
instructive. 

For  nearly  five  years  I was  now  stationed  at  Fort  Sill, 
and  of  all  my  post  commanders  there  I liked  Benteen 
best.  I was  his  adjutant,  and  part  of  the  time  a 
company  commander  under  him,  and  all  the  time  I felt 
that  I was  his  trusted  officer. 

Early  in  1884  the  Post  Quartermaster,  2nd  Lieut. 
H.  W.  Hovey,  24th  Infantry,  was  about  to  go  on  leave 
of  absence,  and  Benteen  naturally  inquired  of  me,  his 


142 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


adjutant,  regarding  the  selection  of  Hovey’s  successor, 
adding  that  the  24th  Infantry  officers  were  new  to  him. 
Promptly  I replied,  “Augur,  Sir.  He  doesn’t  want 
the  job,  but  he  would  perform  the  duties  without 
protest,  and  would  make  an  excellent  quartermaster.” 
“All  right,”  said  Benteen,  “get  out  the  order.” 

The  order  was  prepared  and  issued  immediately, 
and  the  next  time  I met  Augur  his  face  was  dark  with 
resentment.  “I  wish  you  would  mind  your  own 
business  and  let  mine  alone,”  he  growled. 

I replied,  “I  did,  old  boy,  my  commanding  officer 
asked  me  who  should  take  Hovey’s  job,  and  I told 
him  that  you  didn’t  want  it,  but  that  you  would  really 
make  an  excellent  quartermaster,  although  you  are  the 
meanest  of  our  lot.  I recommended  you  as  the  best 
available  man  for  the  place.” 

I was  right.  I knew  my  classmate.  The  duties  of 
quartermaster  under  a commanding  officer  like 
Benteen  suited  him  exactly.  Augur  grew  to  like 
Benteen  as  well  as  I did,  and  liked  his  duties  under 
such  a commanding  officer.  I had  suggested  to  Col. 
Benteen  that  it  would  be  much  better  not  to  give 
Augur  detailed  instructions,  but  to  let  him  figure  out 
how  to  accomplish  results  required  of  him  by  the 
commanding  officer.  That  idea  pleased  both  of  them. 

Some  time  in  June,  1884,  while  I was  Benteen’s  post 
adjutant,  written  instructions  came  from  the  depart- 
ment commander  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  to  drive  out 
of  “Greer  County”  all  intruders.  At  that  time  the 
maps  of  the  state  of  Texas  showed  that  county  as 
being  part  of  that  state,  while  the  United  States 
claimed  it  as  part  of  the  Indian  Territory.  The  land 
referred  to  was  bounded  by  the  100th  Meridian,  Red 
River  and  the  North  Fork  of  Red  River,  and  now 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


143 


contains  at  least  three  counties  of  the  state  of 
Oklahoma. 

At  Sill  we  knew  that  there  were  great  herds  of  cattle 
in  Greer  County,  and  we  knew  of  no  authority  for  their 
being  there,  but  we  had  no  orders  to  oust  them  and 
could  not  do  so  without  such  authority. 

For  several  years  there  had  been  in  Texas  much 
discussion  about  “nesters”  and  “cattle  barons,”  the 
names  being  quite  descriptive,  and  the  trouble  was 
now  to  be  transferred  in  some  degree  to  the  disputed 
region  called  “Greer  County.”  Finally,  definite 
orders  came.  A rich  and  powerful  cattle  company  in 
Greer  County  became  impatient  and  jealous  of  the 
presence  of  a few  nesters  who  had  presumed  to  locate 
themselves  in  that  country  and  prepare  to  till  the 
soil. 

The  manager  of  that  great  cattle  company,  one  B. 
B.  Grooms,  wrote  to  some  high  up  authority  infor- 
mation regarding  the  presence  of  the  nesters,  and 
requested  their  eviction.  Evidently  he  believed  that 
the  cattle  barons  would  be  allowed  to  remain  in  Greer 
County  after  the  eviction  of  the  nesters,  but  the 
Department  Commander  apparently  took  a different 
view  of  the  matter,  and  his  instructions  to  the  Com- 
manding Officer  at  Fort  Sill  were  to  send  a detach- 
ment under  an  officer  to  put  out  of  Greer  County  all 
persons  found  there,  but  to  use  only  so  much  force  as 
should  be  absolutely  necessary  for  such  purpose.  As 
I remember  the  letter  it  contained  the  following 
important  addition  to  the  instructions  referred  to, 
“But,  if  any  of  those  people  should  assert  any  title, 
or  rational  claim  of  right  to  be  in  that  country  let  such 
case  be  reported  to  these  headquarters  before  taking 
further  action.” 


144 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


After  Benteen  had  finished  reading  the  letter  care- 
fully he  showed  it  to  me  and  said,  “Well,  they  are 
your  people,  those  Texans,  and  you  ought  to  know 
how  to  deal  with  them.  You  will  have  to  go  to 
Greer  County.” 

I was  glad  to  hear  him  say  that,  for  at  that  time 
Greer  County  was  little  visited  by  troops,  and  was 
supposed  to  be  full  of  game.  Captains  C.  D.  Beyer 
and  Patrick  Cusack,  9th  Cavalry,  were  then  at  or  near 
Fort  Reno  with  their  troops,  and  from  what  was  left 
behind  from  their  two  organizations  I could  get  only 
two  sergeants  and  eight  privates.  In  addition  I took 
two  of  my  Indian  scouts,  Monowithtequa,  a Co- 
manche, and  Santiago,  born  a Mexican,  but  a Kiowa 
from  his  babyhood,  and  therefore  practically  a Kiowa. 

With  these  men  and  the  necessary  wagon  trans- 
portation I started  June  23,  1884,  going  by  the  Otter 
Creek  road,  passing  south  of  the  Wichita  Mountains. 
Crossing  the  North  Fork  of  Red  River  near  the  mouth 
of  Otter  Creek  we  rode  over  all  of  Greer  County,  from 
one  camp  to  another,  and  omitting  not  a single  camp 
or  settler  that  I heard  of.  Among  the  first  places  we 
visited  was  a post  office  on  the  Texas  side  of  the  river, 
near  the  mouth  of  the  North  Fork. 

At  these  camps  I told  them  all  the  same  story; 
i.e.,  “that  my  orders  required  me  to  move  them  out  of 
Greer  County,  by  force,  if  necessary,  but  to  use  only  so 
much  force  as  should  be  found  to  be  indispensable; 
that  my  warning  did  not  call  for  instant  removal,  but, 
that  if  still  found  in  Greer  County  several  weeks  later, 
force  would  be  used,”  and  while  with  each  man  I 
would  read  extracts  from  my  order.  If  I happened  to 
be  at  a camp  at  any  time  near  meal  hour  I was  cordi- 
ally invited  to  remain  and  eat  with  them,  and  there 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


145 


was  no  doubt  as  to  the  cordiality  of  the  invitation. 
Sometimes  a lonely  line  rider  would  try  to  tempt  me 
to  stay  and  eat  with  him  by  saying,  “I  have  some  fresh 
buttermilk,  and  I know  that  you  haven’t  seen  any 
lately.”  I always  stayed  when  I heard  that. 

At  one  place  I found  a man,  named  Polly,  who  had 
been  a hospital  steward  in  the  Army,  and  he  was  sick 
in  bed  from  chills  and  fever.  I left  with  the  poor 
fellow  nearly  all  the  quinine  I had  with  me.  Of  the 
medical  fraternity  I had  with  me  not  more  than  a 
private,  and  a very  little  medicine,  and  I had  charge  of 
that.  Of  course  I had  medicine  to  open  up  the  bowels, 
and  other  medicine  to  tighten  them  up,  besides  qui- 
nine, and  I remember  no  other. 

In  riding  zig-zag  across  Greer  County  several  times, 
visiting  all  the  cow  camps  and  other  camps,  I found 
myself  at  the  big  bend  of  the  Salt  Fork  of  Red  River, 
where  there  was  a fine  spring  of  good  fresh  water,  and 
close  to  that  water  was  the  camp  of  an  old  nester 
named  Sweet.  I had  frequently  read  over  my  in- 
structions and  had  been  puzzled  over  the  joker  con- 
tained in  it,  that  about  the  “right,  or  title,”  and  I had 
been  very  careful  not  to  use  any  force,  and  now  I was 
to  realize  for  the  first  time  how  wise  I had  been. 

I found  Mr.  Sweet  living  in  a hole  dug  into  the  side 
of  the  river  bluff.  He  was  glad  to  see  me,  indeed  they 
were  all  glad  to  see  me  and  hear  the  news,  but  his 
gladness  was  different,  and  puzzled  me.  When  I 
told  the  old  man  my  orders  he  promptly  exclaimed, 
“You  are  the  very  man  I have  been  looking  for  these 
many  months.  Please  take  me  and  put  me  in  jail,  and 
then  we’ll  take  this  matter  in  the  courts  and  settle  it.” 
His  speech  and  manner  took  my  breath  away,  and 
made  me  very  cautious. 


146 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I replied,  “I  am  not  very  anxious  to  put  you  in  jail, 
for  I don’t  want  to  be  bothered  with  that  sort  of  work, 
but  why  do  you  want  me  to  take  such  action?” 

“Why,  then  we’ll  settle  this  land  question  in  the 
courts,”  he  said,  and,  in  reply  to  further  questions  of 
mine,  he  informed  me  that  he  had  located  himself 
there  by  virtue  of  Texas  Confederate  Land  Script, 
and  that  other  nesters  had  done  likewise ; that  the  land 
script  was  issued  at  Austin,  Texas,  to  old  ex-Confeder- 
ates  for  location  in  Greer  County;  that  Greer  County 
was  part  of  Texas,  being  so  included  in  the  old  treaties, 
etc. 

At  my  request  for  documentary  proof  he  produced 
a small  pamphlet  containing  the  Texas  argument  for 
ownership  of  Greer  County,  and,  showing  me  the 
wording  of  the  old  treaties,  Mr.  Sweet  again  told  me 
of  his  wish  that  I would  put  him  in  jail  and  thus  get 
the  matter  in  the  courts. 

I assured  him  of  my  desire  to  assist  him  in  settling 
the  question,  but  I told  him  that  I would  not  put  him 
in  jail,  nor  would  I now  put  him  south  of  Red  River, 
because  of  the  reason  that  he  had  given  me  for  being 
where  he  was.  I showed  him  my  letter  of  instructions, 
and  invited  his  attention  to  the  joker  therein.  I 
requested  of  him  a copy  of  the  pamphlet,  which  he  was 
glad  to  give  me,  and  I sent  it  to  my  General,  C.  C. 
Augur,  with  a letter  telling  him  about  the  document, 
and  the  claim  of  Mr.  Sweet  that  Greer  County 
belonged  to  Texas,  and  about  others  besides  Sweet 
being  there,  located  like  him  on  Confederate  land 
script  issued  at  Austin,  etc. 

I recommended  to  my  general,  in  view  of  such  an 
honest  and  bona  fide  claim  of  right  to  be  there  ad- 
vanced by  those  people,  that  a date  might  be  set  a 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


147 


month  or  more  later,  when  if  still  found  in  Greer 
County  the  necessary  force  should  be  used.  I also 
informed  my  superior  officer  of  my  previous  care  to  use 
no  force,  and  of  my  intention  to  use  none  till  I had 
received  further  instructions  requiring  such  action. 

I told  Mr.  Sweet  that  my  letter  would  assist  him  in 
getting  the  question  settled,  and  I advised  him  to 
patiently  await  the  result. 

When  I visited  that  cross  roads  post  office  on  the 
south  side  of  Red  River  I took  with  me  my  Co- 
manche scout  Monowithtequa,  and  I noticed  the 
friendly  attitude  of  the  border  settlers  towards  the 
Comanche,  and  the  different  sentiments  entertained 
for  the  Kiowas.  I therefore  gave  my  letter  to  my 
general  to  the  Comanche,  for  him  to  mail  at  the  post 
office  we  had  visited  together,  and  I explained  to  him 
with  the  assistance  of  my  map  where  to  find  me  on 
returning  to  Greer  County. 

I then  resumed  my  travelling  about  and  warning 
settlers.  The  Comanche  returned  promptly  and  had 
no  difficulty  in  finding  my  new  camp.  When  my 
warning  the  settlers  was  about  completed,  and  I was 
somewhere  in  the  northern  part  of  the  county,  a 
Kiowa  scout  from  Fort  Sill  came  to  my  camp  with  a 
written  order  directing  me  to  go  up  the  cattle  trail 
which  traversed  the  county,  and  to  give  protection 
to  the  cattle  herds  which,  report  said,  were  being 
annoyed  by  Kiowas  living  close  to  the  trail,  these 
Indians  being  to  the  east  and  northeast  of  the  North 
Fork  of  Red  River. 

In  compliance  with  my  order  my  little  command 
was  promptly  moved  eastward  to  the  trail,  and  we 
began  making  inquiry  as  to  where  were  the  cattle,  and 
the  Kiowas,  and  it  was  then  ascertained  that  no 


148 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


cattle  had  passed  along  the  trail  for  several  weeks, 
and  that  none  were  then  within  50  miles  of  us,  and  that 
the  troublesome  Kiowas  were  Big  Bow,  Lone  Wolf 
and  Comaltee,  three  of  the  most  influential  men  of 
the  tribe,  the  last  two  being  of  bad  reputation  for  dis- 
turbance in  the  past. 

Hearing  of  no  cattle  herds  coming  up  the  trail  from 
the  south  we  started  northward  on  it,  and  soon  came 
to  the  camp  of  that  well  known  and  shrewd  half  breed 
Comanche,  Quanah  Parker,  the  son  of  the  captive 
white  girl  Cynthiana  Parker.  I knew  Quanah  well, 
and  I knew  Lone  Wolf  and  Big  Bow  too,  but  I had 
never  seen  Comaltee. 

Quanah’s  camp  was  scattered  around  a fine  spring 
of  good,  fresh,  cool  water,  free  from  the  taste  of  alkali 
and  minerals.  He  had  a tiny  trench  carrying  a small 
stream  of  fresh  water  right  through  his  tepee,  making 
a drink  of  cool  water  cost  him  no  more  than  to  roll  over 
on  the  other  side  and  bend  his  head  a little.  He  told 
me  where  to  find  the  different  Kiowas  previously 
named.  I had  no  doubt  that  Quanah  too  had  gotten 
cattle  from  the  passing  herds,  but  he  was  much 
shrewder  and  more  friendly  than  the  Kiowa  chiefs 
and  he  was  always  quick  to  make  capital  out  of  his 
white  blood,  telling  of  it  in  good  English. 

This  was  the  summer  of  1884,  only  two  or  three 
years  after  the  Big  Tree,  Satank  and  Satanta  row  at 
Fort  Sill  when  they  tried  to  kill  General  Sherman,  and 
the  Kiowas  had  not  mellowed  much  since  that  trouble, 
indeed  Lone  Wolf  had  been  deep  in  it,  and  perhaps  the 
others  were,  too. 

After  going  north  on  the  trail  to  a point  beyond 
the  crossing  of  the  North  Fork  we  turned  eastward, 
on  the  old  road  from  Sill  to  Fort  Elliott  which  I had 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


149 


travelled  several  years  before,  and  which  would  lead 
us,  in  succession,  to  the  camps  of  the  Kiowa  chiefs  Big 
Bow,  Lone  Wolf  and  Comaltee.  Taking  with  me  the 
Kiowa  scout  Santiago,  and  several  troopers  including 
a sergeant,  I visited  the  camps  of  the  Indians  referred 
to,  telling  them  in  succession  about  their  meanness, 
and  how  Washington  wanted  them  to  stop  it  immedi- 
ately, and  behave  themselves. 

At  the  first  camp  I took  a fine  mule  from  Big  Bow 
which  a Texan  with  me  claimed  and  showed  me  the 
brand  of  from  his  book.  Big  Bow  was  smooth,  and 
made  no  special  protest,  but,  next  day,  or  perhaps 
the  same  day,  a gigantic  henchman  of  his  followed  us 
to  the  camp  of  Lone  Wolf,  arriving  while  I was  giving 
that  chief  the  same  kind  of  a tongue  lashing  that  I had 
given  Big  Bow.  This  big  Indian  carried  a rifle,  and 
wore  what  had  once  been  a white  dress  shirt,  with  back 
in  front,  and  very  dirty.  He  was  a venomous  looking 
fellow,  and  Lone  Wolf  looked  bad  enough.  All  the 
same,  I didn’t  drop  one  little  bit  of  my  tone  of  com- 
mand, but  completed  my  business  with  him  and  then 
went  on  to  the  camp  of  Comaltee,  and  there  I per- 
formed my  full  duty  in  similar  manner. 

However,  I did  not  feel  perfectly  at  my  ease  during 
this  part  of  my  scout  to  Greer  County.  I did  not  have 
enough  men  to  whip  any  one  of  the  camps,  and  there 
were  quite  a number  of  them  blocking  my  way  back  to 
my  post.  I carried  a Colt  six  shooter,  and  my  good 
shot  gun  which  was  loaded  with  turkey  shot.  At 
that  time  I used  No.  1 shot  for  turkeys.  I carefully 
explained  to  my  colored  troopers  of  the  9th  Cavalry 
that  we  didn’t  want  a fight,  and  that  they  must  watch 
me  all  the  time  we  were  in  the  Kiowa  camps,  especially 
while  I was  talking  to  the  Indians.  I told  them  of  my 


150 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


intention  to  watch  the  Kiowas  to  see  that  we  were  not 
surprised  and  butchered,  assuring  my  men  that  I 
would  surely  fire  the  first  shot,  and  that  I would  get 
the  man  that  I was  talking  to  in  case  of  any  row 
occurring,  but  that  they  must  wait  absolutely  on  my 
actions. 

Beyond  irritating  those  Kiowas  exceedingly  there 
was  no  trouble,  and  we  continued  on  our  return  to  the 
post,  and  I had  the  pleasure  of  learning  that  my  course 
throughout  met  with  the  pleased  approval  of  my  com- 
manding officer,  who  had  been  in  Custer’s  last  battle, 
and  had  seen  much  other  service  including  very  valu- 
able Civil  War  campaigning  on  both  sides  of  the 
Mississippi  River.  Benteen’s  war  record  was  a fine 
one. 

We  had  been  absent  about  a month  on  this  trip,  and 
I enjoyed  it  very  much,  and,  because  of  my  descrip- 
tion of  what  I had  seen,  J.  R.  Kean,  then  a contract 
surgeon,  and  my  second  lieutenant,  Charles  Nicoll 
Clinch,  were  both  very  desirous  of  returning  with  me 
to  complete  my  job  of  evicting  the  intruders  from 
Greer  County.  This  I expected  to  do  after  returning 
from  the  department  rifle  competition  at  Fort  Leaven- 
worth which  I had  been  selected  to  attend,  to  compete 
for  a place  on  the  team.  For  that  duty  I left  Fort  Sill 
about  August  5th,  1884. 

Among  the  competitors  gathered  at  Fort  Leaven- 
worth that  year  were  some  of  the  best  shots  that  ever 
belonged  to  any  army.  Department,  Division  and 
Army  Rifle  Competitions  were  all  held  there  that  year, 
and  Lewis  Merrian,  Clay,  Day,  Macomb,  Hardin  and 
many  others,  superb  rifle  shots,  were  there,  and  made 
that  a memorable  year  in  target  practice,  which  duty 
was  at  that  time  being  made  quite  a hobby  in  our 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


151 


Army.  It  was  a good  hobby  to  have,  and  such  a 
hobby  must  produce  good  results  in  any  army. 

Although  I was  about  the  best  rifle  shot  among  the 
officers  at  Fort  Sill,  and  had  only  two  or  three  superi- 
ors among  the  enlisted  men  there,  I discovered  at 
Fort  Leavenworth  that  I had  lots  of  nerves,  hard  to 
control.  While  shooting  from  the  standing  position 
my  knees  shook,  and  shook,  and  in  spite  of  all  that  I 
could  do  and  say,  my  knees  continued  to  shake,  and 
spoil  my  scores.  I fired  well  at  that  competition  only 
from  the  lying  down  position,  for  the  reason  that  in 
that  position  I did  not  shake.  I failed  by  four  points 
to  win  a place  on  the  Department  Team. 

Before  the  completion  of  the  Division  Competition 
I was  detailed  temporarily  at  the  Military  Prison,  and 
was  on  that  duty  about  one  month,  not  wishing  to 
remain  any  longer  because  of  my  expected  duty  in 
Greer  County,  evicting  settlers.  As  a result  of  my 
duty  at  the  Military  Prison  I became  convinced  that 
no  soldier  acquainted  with  conditions  there  ever 
sought  confinement  in  that  prison  in  preference  to 
soldiering,  which  I had  heard  was  sometimes  done. 
The  most  telling  punishment  was  solitary  confinement 
on  bread  and  water  diet.  Two  or  three  days  of  that 
seemed  enough  to  tame  the  most  obstinate  and  stub- 
born of  military  convicts. 

October  1st  having  been  designated  as  the  date  when 
I was  to  return  to  Greer  County  I went  back  to  Fort 
Sill  for  that  purpose,  arriving  at  Sill  September  27th. 
As  I passed  through  the  city  of  Fort  Worth,  Texas,  I 
saw  at  my  hotel  Governor  John  Ireland,  also  Temple 
Houston,  the  youngest  and  a promising  son  of  Sam 
Houston.  The  Governor  asked  me  a great  many 
questions  about  Greer  County  and  my  experiences 


152 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


there,  and  my  probable  orders  regarding  the  eviction 
of  settlers  from  that  region. 

On  reporting  my  return  to  Col.  Benteen  I was  told 
that  several  days  before  a telegram  had  been  received 
from  Washington  directing  him  to  drop  the  Greer 
County  business,  which  order  was  of  course  complied 
with,  to  the  great  disappointment  of  Kean,  Clinch 
and  myself,  for  we  anticipated  having  a beautiful  time 
hunting  all  over  that  big  county. 

Clinch  left  us  about  a year  later,  for  the  purpose  of 
attending  the  Army  School  of  the  Line,  at  Fort 
Leavenworth,  and  he  never  returned  to  Uj.  He  ex- 
changed with  a cavalry  officer.  While  with  us  he 
sometimes  fell  in  command  of  the  company.  On 
returning  once,  from  some  detached  service,  I was 
appealed  to  by  the  1st  Sergeant  to  save  the  life  of  the 
old  company  dog.  This  old  dog  had  been  picked  up 
by  the  company,  during  our  march  from  Fort  Davis, 
and  because  of  his  being  an  excellent  ’coon  and  ’pos- 
sum dog  he  was  an  immense  favorite  with  all  the 
men  of  the  company.  At  that  time  the  old  dog  could 
eat  hardly  anything  solid,  and  was  old,  stiff  and  very 
ugly,  but  the  men  loved  him  still. 

Clinch  knew  nothing  of  the  poor  dog’s  record,  and 
thought  it  a very  good  thing  to  get  rid  of  the  ugly  old 
animal,  so  he  gave  orders  to  have  the  dog  killed,  to 
the  great  grief  of  the  entire  company.  I returned  just 
in  time.  When  I inquired  if  the  old  dog  was  still  alive 
the  1st  Sergeant  explained  about  the  order  and  he 
also  told  me  how  he  had  told  Lieut.  Clinch  that  the 
dog  belonged  to  Lieut.  Crane  in  order  to  save  the  poor 
thing’s  life.  I soon  told  the  whole  story  to  Clinch, 
and  claimed  the  old  dog  as  mine  from  that  time  on,  to 
give  him  a better  status.  Clinch  enjoyed  the  entire 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


153 


story,  and  had  no  more  objection  to  the  old  company 
dog.  Soldiers  are  very  fond  of  pets,  and  dogs  can 
hardly  keep  out  of  a soldier  camp  because  of  the  kind 
treatment  received  there.  It  is  not  necessary  for  the 
soldiers  to  actually  steal  a dog:  it  is  really  difficult  to 
keep  stray  dogs  out  of  camp. 

Lieut.  Ripley  returned  from  the  Leavenworth  school 
in  the  summer  of  1885,  and  immediately  bought  him- 
self a horse,  and  his  purchase  of  that  animal  is  worth  a 
description.  Ripley  had  come  from  old  Plymouth 
Rock  itself,  and  was  equal  to  any  of  them  in  a horse 
trade.  From  much  inquiry  he  got  the  idea  that  Bill 
Williams  of  Whiskey  Creek,  ten  miles  from  Anadarko 
the  Indian  Agency,  was  the  man  for  him  to  get  his 
horse  from,  and  he  was  influenced  to  this  opinion  by 
the  reputation  given  Wfllliams  by  that  man’s  friends 
among  the  cattle  and  horse  men  of  the  territory. 
They  said  that  Bill  Williams  would  tell  the  truth,  even 
in  selling  his  own  horse.  That  is  a wonderful  repu- 
tation for  any  man  to  have,  and  Ripley  rode  35  miles 
to  see  such  a paragon  of  a horse  dealer.  He  found 
the  man  at  his  ranch  in  the  Caddo  Nation,  where  that 
tribe  had  furnished  him  with  plenty  of  land  for  his 
stock  to  graze  on. 

Williams  promptly  informed  Lieut.  Ripley  that  he 
had  no  horse  that  would  suit  an  Army  officer,  saying 
that  he  knew  what  sort  of  a horse  was  wanted,  and 
that  he  had  no  such  horse  in  his  possession.  Then 
Ripley  remembered  the  character  given  Williams  by 
his  friends  among  the  cow  and  horse  men  of  the 
territory,  and  that  made  him  decline  to  accept  such  a 
decision,  so  he  pointed  out  in  succession  several  good 
looking  horses  in  the  corral  and  inquired  in  turn, 
“Now,  what’s  the  matter  with  that  horse? ’’and  was 


154 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


told,  “Well,  now,  Lieutenant,  you  don’t  want  that 
claybank  horse,  he  hasn’t  been  a gelding  long,  and  he 
is  mean,  and  that  bay  hasn’t  any  good  points  at  all, 
and  he  can’t  stand  hard  work,  etc.”  Apparently  there 
was  no  horse  among  Bill  Williams’s  500  animals  which 
he  considered  good  enough  to  sell  to  an  Army  officer, 
and  Ripley  was  becoming  somewhat  discouraged. 
Finally  he  discovered  a bay  of  good  size  and  color  and 
general  appearance,  excepting  that  he  looked  drawn 
and  thin  and  hard  worked.  Ripley  asked,  “How 
about  that  horse?” 

Williams  quickly  and  shortly  replied,  “That’s  my 
horse,  he’s  not  for  sale,”  but  on  Ripley’s  persisting 
and  inquiring  if  he  would  not  sell  the  horse  at  any  price 
he  added,  “Well,  yes,  you  can  have  him,  but  you  will 
have  to  pay  a big  price  for  him;  he’s  worth  at  least 
$135  gold.”  The  animal’s  good  points  as  described  by 
his  owner  were;  “He’s  gentle,  I can  carry  a young 
calf  on  him,  and  he  can  ’lope  a long  time.” 

Ripley  quickly  pulled  out  his  purse  and  said, 
“Here’s  your  money,  I want  that  horse,”  and  he  thus 
bought  the  best  mount  for  an  officer  that  I ever  saw. 

In  a few  months  Ripley  had  to  leave  Fort  Sill  and 
his  new  horse,  and  on  Bill  Williams’s  reputation  for 
truth  telling  and  my  faith  in  Ripley’s  ability  to 
correctly  gauge  human  nature  and  a horse’s  good 
points  I bought  the  horse  from  him,  and  rode  the 
animal  till  I left  Sill  in  June,  1888,  for  Arizona.  That 
horse,  named  by  my  orderly,  “Frank,”  had  a good 
fast  walk,  an  easy,  long,  fast  trot,  and  an  easy,  long, 
fast  and  sure  gallop,  and  I found  out  that  he  was 
also  very  swift  and  of  great  endurance.  Bill  Williams 
was  right  in  not  wishing  to  sell  his  favorite  horse, 
Lieut.  Ripley  was  equally  right  in  his  effort  to  buy 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


155 


him,  and  I have  never  regretted  my  three  years’ 
ownership  of  that  beautiful,  red  bay  gelding. 

From  June  13th,  to  19th,  1885, 1 was  absent  from  my 
post,  being  engaged  in  measuring  the  wagon  road  from 
Fort  Sill  to  Harold,  Texas,  the  new  terminus  of  the 
nearest  railroad.  It  was  thought  to  be  a little  nearer 
than  Henrietta.  I attached  an  odometer  to  both  hind 
wheels  of  my  buckboard,  and  after  much  practicing 
measuring  the  roads  around  Sill  I was  ready  to  start, 
intending  to  take  the  average  of  the  readings  as  the 
true  distance. 

I had,  besides  the  buckboard  and  the  soldier  driver 
of  it,  an  escort  wagon  and  driver,  also  my  old  friend 
Monowithtequa,  the  Comanche  scout.  When  we 
reached  Red  River  we  found  that  stream  much  swollen 
by  recent  rains  above,  and  we  had  to  stop  and  go  into 
camp,  not  being  able  to  cross.  But  I was  not  quite 
satisfied  that  I could  not  cross  the  river,  so  I had 
the  Indian  strip  off  his  clothing  and  swim  the  river 
with  me,  and  test  the  depth  here  and  there  across 
the  entire  breadth  of  several  hundred  yards.  We 
succeeded  in  getting  across,  but  we  found  that  in  some 
places  the  water  was  too  deep  for  the  wagon,  being 
over  our  heads. 

But,  next  morning,  seeing  that  the  river  had  fallen 
several  feet  during  the  night,  I was  sure  that  we  could 
make  the  passage  across,  so  in  we  went,  the  Indian 
going  first,  on  his  pony,  travelling  at  a trot  to  prevent 
the  animal  from  sinking  in  the  quicksand.  I sat  by 
the  side  of  the  buckboard  driver  to  keep  him  from 
getting  too  nervous,  and  I was  justified  by  the  result. 
The  buckboard  had  to  travel  at  a trot  too,  in  order 
to  avoid  sinking  in  the  quicksand,  where  it  was  not 
covered  by  the  water,  and  when  we  reached  the  broad- 


156 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


est  part  of  the  water  it  came  up  to  our  waists  as  we  sat 
in  our  little  wagon. 

My  soldier  driver  was  very  nervous,  and  seemed 
inclined  to  jump  out  into  the  river,  but  I made  him  sit 
still,  assuring  him  that  to  do  so  was  his  only  chance  for 
life,  and  I still  believe  that  I was  correct  in  my  esti- 
mate of  the  danger.  We  crossed  all  right,  and 
measured  the  road  to  Harold  where  we  stopped  several 
hours  to  eat  and  allow  the  river  time  enough  to  fall  a 
little  more,  which  it  did,  to  my  great  satisfaction.  I 
returned  to  my  post  with  the  information  that  Harold 
was  nearer  than  Henrietta  by  three  or  four  miles. 
On  that  report  the  new  transportation  contract  was 
changed  to  the  first  named  place  for  the  coming  fiscal 
year. 

In  the  fall  of  1885  Lieut.  Augur  and  I went  turkey 
hunting  on  Deep  Red  Creek  with  an  escort  of  several 
enlisted  men,  some  of  whom  were  good  hunters.  It 
was  our  practice  to  select  good  hunters  for  such  duty, 
for  the  benefit  of  their  company.  After  a very 
successful  hunt  we  started  for  home  and  camped  en 
route  on  West  Cache  Creek.  About  8 o’clock  that 
night  Augur  and  I were  in  our  tent  and  our  men  were 
still  talking  around  the  cook  fire  when  we  heard  what 
we  took  to  be  a cry  of  distress  from  a little  girl  lost  in 
the  woods  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek,  but  a con- 
tinued repetition  of  the  sound  caused  the  men  of  the 
24th  Infantry  to  put  their  heads  close  together  over 
the  cook  fire,  and  begin  all  sorts  of  stories  about 
panthers  and  wild  cats.  The  call  was  certainly  made 
by  a panther  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek,  and 
about  50  yards  away,  and  we  noted  the  increasing 
distance  by  the  increasing  faintness  of  the  sound.  On 
another  occasion  I had  heard  a panther  call,  but  not 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


157 


so  close  as  this  one.  I never  had  an  opportunity  to 
shoot  one  except  that  time  when  Jimmie  James  was 
afraid  for  me  to  shoot  from  his  buggy,  near  Piedras 
Negras,  opposite  Eagle  Pass,  Texas. 

In  November  of  1886,  about  Thanksgiving  week,  I 
went  on  one  of  our  regular  hunts  for  turkeys  for  the 
entire  garrison,  as  was  then  the  custom  at  some  fron- 
tier posts.  Capt.  A.  C.  Markley  was  along,  and  with 
him  came  Major  Burton  the  new  inspector  and  after- 
wards Inspector  General  of  the  Army,  appointed  from 
the  infantry.  Dr.  J.  R.  Kean  came,  too.  He  had 
been  commissioned  in  1884.  For  our  hunt  we  went  to 
Beaver  Creek,  east  of  Sill  and  at  that  time  well  known 
for  its  good  turkey  hunting,  and  we  found  such  condi- 
tion just  as  described. 

By  that  time  I had  worked  up  a good  scheme  or 
method  of  aiming  at  night  when  the  front  sight  was 
not  visible.  Sitting  in  my  room,  shot  gun  in  hand,  I 
would  point  and  point  at  a nail  or  other  mark,  raising 
and  lowering  the  muzzle  till  I could  locate  almost 
perfectly  any  spot  selected  for  the  exercise.  After 
much  time  spent  in  this  practice  I seldom  missed  a 
turkey,  no  matter  how  dark  the  night,  or  how  high 
the  roost. 

For  the  first  36  hours’  hunting  my  bag  was  17 
turkeys  and  two  otters,  thus  taking  off  the  keen  edge 
of  my  desire  to  kill  the  big  birds.  Bullis  was  the  only 
officer  of  my  acquaintance  who  had  killed  an  otter,  and 
my  success  in  doing  so  gave  me  great  satisfaction. 
Another  source  of  satisfaction  during  that  fine  hunt 
was  seeing  my  scout  Santiago  lost  in  the  woods,  and 
unable  to  indicate  by  a big  margin  the  points  of  the 
compass.  I convinced  him  only  by  allowing  him  to 
have  his  way  and  go  in  the  direction  selected  by  him, 


158 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


telling  him  in  advance  the  true  direction  by  the  com- 
pass. Camp  was  in  one  direction,  and  Beaver  Creek 
was  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  Santiago  only 
smiled  with  pity  when  I told  him  what  the  compass 
said.  Twice  he  had  his  way  and  failed,  and  then  I 
used  my  compass  with  entire  success. 

Our  hunt  netted  us  a bag  of  about  75  turkeys,  and 
other  hunting  parties  out  from  the  post  at  the  same 
time  brought  the  aggregate  number  of  turkeys  for  that 
Thanksgiving  dinner  for  the  entire  garrison  up  to 
about  225  birds,  besides  some  other  game.  Other 
parties  had  killed  more  birds  than  we  had. 

When  I had  reported  at  Fort  Sill  in  November,  188^ 
Major  Morse  K.  Taylor  was  post  surgeon.  He  was 
then  close  to  retirement  age,  but  he  was  not  too  old  to 
work  for  the  betterment  of  the  enlisted  man.  He  was, 
at  that  time,  working  to  get  the  old  bed  sack  and 
wooden  slats  replaced  by  cotton  mattress  and  iron 
bed  springs.  In  about  a year  this  was  accomplished, 
and  the  soldier’s  life  was  greatly  improved  in  comfort. 
Major  Taylor  also  had  the  water  works  put  in  at  Fort 
Sill,  the  first  I saw  at  an  Army  post.  He  was  working, 
at  date  of  retirement,  on  something  which  was  intended 
to  minimize  the  danger  of  a “soldier  heart,”  which 
the  Major  said  was  caused  by  wearing  too  tight  a 
blouse. 


CHAPTER  VI 


During  all  my  service  at  Fort  Sill  I was  closely 
connected  with  Horace  P.  Jones,  Indian  Interpreter. 
This  rare  man  was  a Missourian  by  birth,  had  moved 
to  Texas  when  a boy,  had  when  scarcely  grown  moved 
on  to  the  edge  of  the  frontier  in  Texas,  and  was  at  old 
Camp  Cooper  when  the  news  of  the  Harper’s  Ferry 
incident  reached  the  old  2nd  Dragoons.  Jones  used 
to  say  that  Major  George  H.  Thomas,  afterwards 
“The  Rock  of  Chickamauga, ” was  the  most  out- 
spoken defender  of  Virginia  among  the  officers  at 
Camp  Cooper.  This  is  not  improbable  if  we  accept 
the  contention  of  some  Southern  writers  that  before 
fighting  had  begun  the  famous  general  requested  of 
the  Governor  of  Virginia,  his  native  state,  a com- 
mission in  her  service.  I have  never  read  any  denial 
of  such  statement. 

When  the  Civil  War  began  Jones  found  his  way  to 
the  Indian  Territory,  and  had  been  interpreter  for 
the  Comanches  and  Kiowas  ever  since.  He  acted  as 
interpreter  during  General  Sherman’s  visit  to  Fort 
Sill  when  Satanta  and  Big  Tree  gave  their  trouble  and 
almost  caused  the  death  of  the  General.  Although 
himself  extremely  plain  spoken  and  truthful,  Jones 
insisted  that  in  interpreting  for  Indians  it  was  fre- 
quently necessary  to  tone  down  the  language  of  both 
sides,  in  order  to  prevent  trouble  because  of  the  very 
plain  talking  done  by  the  Indians. 

159 


160 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


He  was  fond  of  reading,  and  took  special  pleasure 
in  poring  over  the  books  of  Walter  Scott,  and  he  had 
a most  unique  and  truthful  criticism  of  that  great 
author’s  works,  which  applies  to  both  prose  and  poetry. 
Jones  would  say,  “Walter  Scott  had  some  considera- 
tion for  a fellow,  he  doesn’t  take  you  all  the  way 
through  a great  big  book,  hungry  and  thirsty.  No, 
Sir,  he  always  gives  you  something  to  eat.”  Scott’s 
novels  and  poetry  contain  many  instances  showing  the 
correctness  of  this  strange  criticism,  made  by  a strange 
man.  Frequently  Jones  would  come  at  night  to  my 
quarters,  get  a book  and  read  till  he  was  tired,  and 
then  leave  the  house  without  having  said  half  a dozen 
words. 

Every  morning  he  appeared  at  the  adjutant’s 
office,  accompanied  by  one  or  more  of  his  clients,  the 
scouts,  usually  one  from  each  of  the  two  tribes.  Prac- 
tically all  the  time  that  I was  at  Sill  I was  in  command 
of  the  Indian  Scouts.  At  first  there  were  only  five, 
but  this  number  was  afterwards  doubled,  and  divided 
equally  between  the  Comanches  and  Kiowas.  As  I 
was  nearly  all  the  time  Post  Adjutant  it  was  conven- 
ient to  me  to  have  them  at  the  office  where  old  Jones 
would  interpret  for  them,  they  using  words  and  signs. 

The  Comanches  were  not  good  at  sign  talk,  and 
they  also  knew  very  little  of  the  dialect  used  by  any 
other  tribe,  the  reason  being  that  their  own  language 
was  comparatively  easy  to  learn  and  was  therefore 
well  known  by  the  other  Indian  tribes  living  in  that 
part  of  the  Territory.  This  relieved  the  Comanches 
from  the  necessity  of  learning  any  other  Indian  dialect, 
whether  of  words  or  signs. 

On  the  other  hand  the  Kiowas  were  very  good  at 
sign  talk,  also  in  speaking  the  Comanche  dialect 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


161 


their  own  being  very  difficult  to  learn.  The  men  of 
these  two  tribes  were  large,  fine  specimens,  physically, 
and  I never  learned  to  distinguish  the  features  of 
either  tribe  from  those  of  the  other.  By  looking  at 
their  moccasins,  however,  I could  usually  tell  a Co- 
manche from  a Kiowa.  The  Comanche  made  the 
plainest  sort  of  a moccasin,  while  the  Kiowa  made  a 
very  prettily  ornamented  moccasin.  Sometimes  I saw 
a Comanche  wearing  a Kiowa  moccasin.  Some  people 
said  that  the  Comanche  was  more  lazy  than  the 
Kiowa,  and  in  that  manner  accounted  for  such  dif- 
ference in  their  footwear. 

Among  the  Comanche  Scouts  was  one  called  “Co- 
manche George,  ” a great  liar,  but  a good  scout,  guide 
and  hunter.  To  me  he  insisted  that  he  had  seen 
San  Antonio,  Texas,  three  times  while  on  raids  in 
Texas.  That  was  possible,  for  George  was  easily  50 
years  old  at  that  time. 

In  1886  or  1887  George  was  scout  with  Lieut.  G.  A. 
Dodd,  3rd  Cavalry,  out  to  the  north  and  northwest 
of  Fort  Sill,  and  when  the  troops  returned  he  hastened 
to  report  at  the  Adjutant’s  office  next  morning  with 
the  interpreter,  H.  P.  Jones.  George  felt  that  he  had 
offended  Lieut.  Dodd  and  he  wished  to  get  in  the  first 
word;  he  had  killed  his  pony  while  on  the  scout  and 
he  was  afraid  of  the  consequences.  His  story,  as  told 
by  Jones,  was  this:  “Jones,  you  know  my  mudder 
and  fader  dead,  long  time  dead.  Well,  maybeso  one, 
two,  three  nights,  all  night  long  my  poor  mudder  and 
fader,  they  come  and  say  to  me,  ‘George,  why  don’t 
you  send  us  ponies  to  ride?  We  no  got  pony  to  ride, 
heap  tired.  George,  you  kill  your  pony  and  send  him 
to  us,  like  good  son.  You  get  arlother.’”  The  truth  of 
it  was  that  George  had  not  taken  good  care  of  his 


162 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


pony  and  had  allowed  the  poor  animal  to  get  very 
weak  and  thin,  and  he  killed  it  in  anger  at  its  lack  of 
strength  and  speed,  and  then  he  feared  Lieut.  Dodd’s 
telling  me  about  it.  Nothing  was  said  of  it  by  Dodd, 
and  I did  not  punish  George  for  it.  The  incident 
made  a good  story. 

My  father  died  in  February,  1885,  necessitating  my 
going  home  to  assist  in  the  settlement  of  his  affairs, 
so  as  to  relieve  our  mother.  My  father  died  in  harness, 
after  three  days’  sickness.  Pneumonia  caused  his 
death,  after  22  years’  service  as  President  of  Baylor 
University,  and  after  he  had  been  for  a much  longer 
period  one  of  the  leading  men  of  the  South  in  church 
and  school  matters.  He  was  one  of  the  greatest 
preachers  and  educators  in  the  South,  and  he  accom- 
plished a great  deal  of  good  among  his  people.  He 
wrote  a history  of  the  life  of  Sam  Houston.  He  left  a 
great  name  in  the  Baptist  Church. 

Although  there  were  four  companies  of  the  24th 
Infantry  and  only  two  troops  of  cavalry  stationed  at 
Fort  Sill,  most  of  the  post  commanders  there  during 
my  time  were  cavalry  officers.  We  had  Majors 
Henry,  Benteen,  Upham  and  Purington  of  the  cavalry, 
and  for  all  of  them  I was  adjutant.  The  most  notice- 
able characteristic  of  Major  Purington  was  his  in- 
difference to  formality  and  his  great,  good  common 
sense.  “Long  George”  was  an  excellent  post  com- 
mander, and  his  command  was  always  in  first  class 
condition,  especially  as  regarded  neatness,  cleanliness, 
and  efficiency.  He  was  close  to  his  young  officers, 
went  hunting  with  them,  beat  most  of  us  shooting, 
and  showed  consideration  where  needed,  in  this 
respect  resembling  Benteen  very  much,  all  the  time 
requiring  close  attention  to  duty. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


163 


My  infantry  post  commanders  were  Major  O’Beirne, 
Lieut. -Col.  Pearson,  and  Captains  Lewis  Johnson  and 
Clous.  Johnson  was  the  best  posted  officer  that  I knew 
in  old  times,  and  Clous  was  so  good  in  his  knowledge 
of  military  law  that  he  became  Judge  Advocate 
General  of  the  Army. 

Carl  Reichmann  joined  while  I was  serving  at  Fort 
Sill,  and  so  did  George  Cartwright.  They  were  both 
excellent  officers.  Reichmann  was  born  not  far  from 
the  Rhine,  was  well  educated  in  Germany,  and  had 
the  good  qualities  of  his  race. 

I had  some  very  pleasant  hunts  with  each  of  these 
young  officers.  At  first  Reichmann  was  very  green. 
Once  we  went  horseback  to  hunt  along  West  Cache 
Creek,  and  stayed  out  all  night,  just  as  we  did  on  other 
occasions.  Reichmann’s  horse  was  a borrowed,  or 
hired  animal,  and  not  a very  attractive  steed,  and 
when  we  were  ready  to  start  home  the  next  morning 
Reichmann  buckled,  or  cinched  the  girth  strap  too 
loosely,  which  made  the  saddle  unreliable.  In  his 
first  dismounting  he  bore  his  weight  on  the  stirrup 
just  the  same  as  usual,  instead  of  taking  both  feet  out 
of  the  stirrup,  and  the  saddle  turned  with  his  approach 
to  the  ground,  making  the  horse  very  nervous. 

The  horse  began  to  shy  and  pull  as  Reichmann 
touched  the  ground,  but  the  rider  had  plenty  of  time 
to  throw  the  reins  over  the  horse’s  head,  and  thus  hold 
the  animal.  But  Reichmann  was  a big,  powerful 
man,  and  he  merely  hung  on  to  the  reins  without 
taking  them  from  over  the  horse’s  neck,  and  then  he 
braced  himself  against  the  horse.  The  struggle  did 
not  last  long,  and  I had  to  go  after  the  runaway 
animal  on  my  horse  Frank.  But,  with  hunt  or  other 
work,  Reichmann  steadily  improved. 


164 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


During  most  of  his  time  at  Sill,  Reichmann  lived 
next  door  to  me,  in  our  double  set  of  quarters,  and  we 
enjoyed  more  than  one  of  his  night  lunches  prepared 
from  articles  he  had  procured  direct  from  Germany. 
They  were  pretty  rich,  but  very  appetizing  and 
enjoyable. 

But,  other  near  neighbors  gave  Reichmann  different 
occupation.  A whole  family  of  skunks  lived  under  his 
side  of  the  house,  and  when  there  was  a fight  among 
them  they  plainly  told  Reichmann  of  the  trouble. 
The  odor  was  horrible.  So,  Reichmann  prepared  a 
trap  out  of  a big  box  and  got  out  his  shot  gun.  I pulled 
the  cord,  lifting  slightly  the  box  and  allowing  the  little 
animals  space  to  run  out.  In  this  way  Reichmann 
killed  several  of  his  tormentors  and  one  or  two  house 
cats.  But  he  broke  up  the  nest  of  skunks  under  his 
quarters.  This  trap  was  prepared  out  in  the  yard, 
with  room  for  Reichmann  to  shoot. 

Cartwright  was  born  in  New  York  state,  graduated 
from  West  Point,  and  had  most  of  the  best  qualities 
which  should  be  expected  from  such  conditions.  The 
two  officers  were  as  different  as  could  be.  Reichmann, 
with  his  stubborn  determination,  and  close  applica- 
tion to  duty,  will  earn  everything  in  sight.  Cart- 
wright’s bright  and  promising  career  was  most  un- 
timely cut  short  by  yellow  fever  in  Cuba,  in  1899.  His 
death  was  a great  loss  to  the  Army  and  to  the  Country. 
He  was  a fine  man,  as  well  as  a splendid  officer. 

Hunting  continued  good  in  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Sill 
and  my  good  horse  Frank  was  a source  of  never  ending 
pleasure  and  convenience  in  that  connection.  Many 
times  I would  mount  the  guard,  go  to  the  adjutant’s 
office,  hurry  through  with  the  paper  work,  arrange 
with  Lieut.  H.  W.  Hovey,  24th  Infantry,  to  take  my 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


165 


place  at  retreat  and  tatto,  then  mount  my  good  bay 
horse  and  ride  off  hunting.  Sometimes  I went  as  far 
as  ten  or  twelve  miles,  and  I seldom  failed  to  provide 
my  mess  with  fresh  meat,  and  Hovey’s  too.  My 
horse’s  easy  gaits  and  free  travelling  would  carry  me 
quickly  to  my  hunting  grounds,  and  I would  some- 
times remain  there  until  after  night  fall  to  hunt 
turkeys  on  their  roosts. 

Then,  on  my  road  back  to  the  post  the  first  mile 
or  two  was  covered  at  a long,  free  gallop,  and  the 
same  gait  was  taken  by  my  horse  towards  the  end  of 
the  ride,  all  without  any  urging  from  me.  During  the 
summer  months  we  would  hunt  plover  while  they 
stopped  to  rest  with  us  during  the  months  of  July  and 
August.  They  were  so  plentiful  that  within  four  or 
five  hours  with  wagon  transportation,  we  could  easily 
bag  20  or  30,  and  on  one  occasion  Cartwright  and  I 
killed  100  and  we  could  easily  have  killed  many  more, 
for  the  birds  continued  plentiful  and  our  ammunition 
was  not  exhausted. 

Prairie  chickens  were  sometimes  numerous,  and 
ducks  were  abundant  in  season,  along  the  creeks  and 
ponds.  Deer  and  antelope  were  scarce  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  post,  because  of  the  many  Indian  camps.  In 
those  days  Indians  rarely  hunted  birds,  and  this 
accounted  for  the  presence  of  feathered  game  where 
deer  were  scarce. 

On  several  occasions  I noticed  a queer  thing  about 
prairie  chickens.  My  first  shot  with  rifle  or  pistol 
would  frequently  fail  to  kill,  or  to  make  the  bird  fly, 
and  thus  I sometimes  got  two,  and  even  three  shots 
at  the  same  bird,  finally  killing  it.  On  one  occasion 
the  first  shot  from  my  revolver,  a caliber  44  cowboy 
Colt,  fired  from  a Dougherty  wagon,  slightly  grazed 


166 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  top  of  the  bird’s  back,  the  next  shot  hit  just  as 
lightly  the  skin  under  the  bird’s  breast,  and  the  third 
was  a center  shot.  The  bird  was  not  disabled  by 
either  the  first  or  the  second  shot,  and  could  easily 
have  flown  away,  instead  of  which  it  continued  to 
peck  and  eat. 

In  the  spring  of  1886  or  1887  my  company  (“C”) 
was  at  Anadarko,  the  Indian  Agency,  to  protect  the 
Indian  schools  there  against  threatened  trouble  from 
the  Kiowas.  Late  in  March,  or  early  in  April,  after 
some  warm  weather  there  came  a long,  cold  spell,  and 
this  made  the  geese  and  ducks  then  flying  north  stop 
and  stay  a while  with  us  instead  of  going  on  north. 
For  several  days  I had  some  good  goose  hunting, 
which  I had  not  counted  on. 

At  this  time  the  second  lieutenant  of  the  company 
was  W.  L.  Simpson,  with  whom  Clinch  had  ex- 
changed, getting  the  3rd  Cavalry,  like  Ripley  did. 
Clinch  was  a fine  fellow,  in  spite  of  being  very  English 
and  believing  that  George  Washington  had  put  a 
stain  on  his  good  name  by  allowing  the  hanging  of 
Major  John  Andre. 

Simpson  was  quite  a horse  man  and  kept  up  his 
acquaintance  with  his  old  friends.  He  trained  an 
Indian  pony  at  Anadarko  to  do  all  sorts  of  tricks,  and 
then  left  for  Sill  before  I did.  The  pony  got  away  from 
him  while  on  the  road  to  Sill  and  came  back  to  his  old 
range  near  Anadarko.  After  locating  the  pony  up  the 
Washita  River  a few  miles  I went  after  him  with  one 
of  my  scouts,  a Kiowa  named  Tangkonka,  and  after 
quite  an  interesting  experience  with  the  Indians  I 
found  and  brought  back  with  me  the  little  pony,  and 
then  I forwTarded  it  on  to  Sill. 

Finally,  after  staying  at  Anadarko  till  the  Kiowas 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


167 


had  quieted  down,  and  after  we  had  completed  our 
target  practice  there  in  the  valley  of  the  Washita 
River,  my  company  was  ordered  home  to  Sill.  Old 
Frank  Fred,  the  merchant  at  Anadarko,  made  my 
stay  there  quite  enjoyable  by  his  kind  hospitality. 

Our  march  home  was  very  easy  and  pleasant.  Five 
or  six  miles  south  of  Sill  we  met  several  hundred 
Comanches  on  their  road  to  the  Agency  to  receive 
their  “Grass  Money”  for  leasing  their  good  lands 
south  of  Fort  Sill  to  cattle  men.  These  lands  were 
south  of  West  Cache  Creek.  The  Comanches  were 
dressed  in  their  brightest  colors,  and  they  were  in  their 
best  spirits,  and,  altogether,  they  made  quite  a 
picturesque  appearance  as  they  met  us  with  their 
long  column  of  buggies,  wagons  and  horses,  carrying 
men,  women  and  children,  all  gaudily  dressed  and 
painted.  I had  to  return  their  “How  John”  many 
times  as  I met  their  different  outfits. 

A few  miles  further  on  I heard  my  orderly  and  my 
former  orderly  chatting  away  as  they  marched.  My 
orderly  was  riding  my  horse  Frank,  and  my  former 
orderly  was  in  ranks,  and  they  were  telling  each  other 
of  good  things  to  eat.  I heard  the  former  orderly 
say,  as  he  marched,  “Say,  I can  tell  you  something 
better  than  that,  ” and  when  the  other  soldier  doubted 
his  ability  to  do  so  he  continued,  “ Big,  young,  fat  ’pos- 
sum; roast  him  brown  and  done,  fill  his  sides  with  good 
yam  sweet  potatoes,  slash  his  face  up  and  down  with 
good  country  butter,”  and  here  the  other  colored  sol- 
dier could  stand  it  no  longer.  He  had  been  interrupting 
his  comrade  with  “Yaas,  Yaas,  Yaas,  ” but  he  broke 
out  with  “Hush,  Hush,  child,  I falls  right  off  this 
horse,”  and  the  other  man  had  won.  Years  after- 
wards I read  in  a magazine  the  main  parts  of  that 


168 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


story,  with  no  mention  of  soldiers,  but  it  could  easily 
have  happened  elsewhere,  also. 

Still  a few  miles  further  and  a little  rattlesnake 
was  crossing  the  road  right  under  my  feet.  I quietly 
put  one  heel  on  the  reptile’s  body  near  the  head,  and 
then  drawing  the  long  hunting  knife  from  my  belt  I 
cut  off  the  snake’s  head  and  then  its  single  rattle 
and  a button,  put  the  rattle  in  my  pocket,  and  then 
without  having  said  a word  I resumed  my  march  at 
the  head  of  my  company,  on  foot.  My  men  were 
perfectly  silent  behind  me  while  I was  thus  engaged, 
but  as  soon  as  we  resumed  the  march  I heard  long 
legged  John  Hardy  remark  in  a low,  hushed  tone  of 
voice,  “Lord,  Lord,  did  you  see  that?  Nobody  but  a 
Hoodoo  does  that,”  and  there  was  silence  for  a long 
time,  for  colored  troops.  But  they  soon  regained  their 
usual  spirits  and  talkativeness.  It  is  possible  that  the 
rattlesnake  incident  gave  me  greater  prestige  with  them . 

In  the  summer  of  1887  I again  attended  the  De- 
partment Rifle  Competition  at  Fort  Leavenworth, 
this  time  as  second  in  command  of  camp  and  troops, 
being  really  in  charge  of  preparation  of  the  firing 
range,  and  afterwards  running  the  actual  machinery 
of  the  firing.  At  the  close  of  the  competition  I went 
with  the  rifle  team  to  Omaha  where  the  Division 
Competition  took  place.  My  team  did  not  win  first 
place  in  the  competition  with  the  other  teams,  but  we 
had  a nice,  instructive  time  of  it. 

While  off  on  this  duty  from  Sill  I met  at  Fort 
Leavenworth  the  new  department  commander,  Gen- 
eral Wesley  Merritt,  who  was  very  much  interested 
in  my  description  of  Greer  County  and  conditions 
there,  for  he  had  been  reading  my  report  submitted 
on  returning  from  my  first  expedition  into  that  section. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


169 


Judging  from  his  great  interest  in  the  matter  the 
question  must  have  arisen  to  life  again,  fresh  and 
strong.  He  promised  to  remind  the  War  Department 
of  the  entire  question  and  press  its  settlement. 

The  following  winter  I made  application  through 
military  channels  for  the  detail  in  Military  Tactics 
at  the  U.  S.  Military  Academy,  West  Point,  N.  Y., 
and  I wrote  a personal  letter  to  General  Merritt 
requesting  him  to  assist  me,  also  a similar  letter  to 
Capt.  Clous,  24th  Infantry,  then  on  duty  in  Washing- 
ton, D.  C.  Clous  was  afterwards  Judge  Advocate 
General  of  the  Army,  and  a good  one,  besides  being  a 
good  friend  of  mine.  My  post  and  regimental  com- 
mander, Lieut.  Col.  E.  P.  Pearson,  24th  Infantry, 
disapproved  my  application  because  I was  at  that 
time  the  only  officer  present  on  duty  with  my  com- 
pany. But  General  Merritt  wrote  me  a very  kind 
and  cordial  letter,  and  promised  me  his  support,  and 
I was  therefore  very  hopeful  of  success.  In  addition, 
I was  sure  that  Capt.  Clous  would  do  all  he  could  to 
help  me. 

A youngster  of  the  — th  Cavalry,  then  stationed  at 
Fort  Sill,  learning  that  I was  trying  to  get  the  West 
Point  detail  in  Military  Tactics  requested  me  to  tell 
him  what  means  I was  using  for  that  purpose,  saying 
that  some  day  he  expected  to  try  for  it.  I frankly 
told  him  all  that  I was  doing. 

Late  in  March,  1888,  instructions  came  to  my  post 
commander  to  send  out  a detachment  of  cavalry  and 
remove  intruders  from  two  designated  townships, 
each  township  being  six  miles  square,  and  located, 
one  east  of  Otter  Creek  and  south  of  the  Wichita 
Mountains,  and  the  other  at  the  southwest  corner  of 
Greer  County  where  the  100th  Meridian  cuts  Red 


170 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


River.  The  post  commander  designated  me  for  that 
duty  and  gave  me  for  company  the  previously  men- 
tioned second  lieutenant  of  the  cavalry,  also  a mounted 
escort  from  the  same  regiment,  and  an  escort  wagon. 
The  youngster  did  not  like  the  meaning  of  two  officers 
being  sent  on  such  a small  duty,  especially  since  one 
of  them  was  an  infantryman  and  his  senior,  and  once 
or  twice  on  the  trip  he  said  that  he  could  not  see  what 
he  was  sent  along  for,  unless  it  was  to  act  as  my  wet 
nurse.  I then  informed  him  that  the  reverse  was  the 
case,  for  the  post  commander  had  told  me  that  the 
young  officer  was  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with 
conditions  in  Greer  County  to  justify  his  sending  him 
there  in  command.  That  was  exactly  what  the  post 
commander  had  given  me  to  understand. 

We  took  the  same  road  that  I had  used  in  1884, 
crossed  the  North  Fork  of  Red  River,  and  by  the 
compass  we  struck  out  across  the  treeless  plain, 
travelling  by  my  military  map,  and  we  did  it  so  truly 
that  we  hit  the  Salt  Fork  south  of  and  close  to  the 
good  spring  where  I had  seen  Mr.  Sweet  on  my  former 
visit.  But,  before  reaching  the  North  Fork  we  made 
a good  camp  and  searched  thoroughly  the  nearer 
township  for  intruders,  and  we  looked  well  without 
success.  During  my  two  or  three  days’  riding  over  the 
township  in  search  of  intruders  I had  several  oppor- 
tunities to  test  the  speed  and  endurance  of  my  good 
bay  horse,  also  his  intelligence  and  willingness  to  run. 
One  morning  I was  out  with  my  Comanche  Scout 
Monowithtequa  when  we  suddenly  scared  a bob- 
tailed wild  cat  out  of  the  grass  and  I killed  it  with  my 
shot  gun  loaded  with  turkey  shot.  The  race  was  a 
very  short  one  in  which  the  Comanche  joined  with 
great  zest  and  skill. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


171 


The  same  afternoon  I took  the  same  man  with  me, 
and  while  riding  along  a treeless  watercourse  a big 
turkey  gobbler  ran  and  flew  along  the  dry  creek  bed 
ahead  of  us.  There  being  no  underbrush  to  conceal 
the  big  bird  I promptly  took  after  him  on  Frank,  and 
I then  learned  that  my  horse  so  loved  to  run  that  he 
would  chase  a flying  object  the  same  as  a running  one. 
It  was  the  first  week  in  April  and  the  bird  was  very 
fat,  and  for  that  reason  his  running  and  flying  soon 
exhausted  him,  and  I rode  up  close  and  shot  him 
after  not  more  than  half  a mile’s  chase.  However, 
much  of  the  race  was  up  a long  slant  of  a hill,  which 
made  running  more  fatiguing  for  the  bird  than  for  the 
horse. 

The  next  day  I had  scout  Santiago  with  me  and  I 
had  another  turkey  chase,  but  this  time  the  ground 
was  rough  and  broken,  easy  for  the  turkey  to  fly  over, 
and  it  offered  good  concealment.  After  flying  over  a 
high  creek  bank  the  turkey  apparently  had  only 
prairie  to  cross,  but  when  I arrived  on  top  of  that 
bluff  I saw  a ravine  about  200  yards  in  front  of  me 
and  when  I reached  it  I was  in  doubt  as  to  which  end 
of  the  ravine  the  turkey  took,  so  I followed  the  wrong 
end,  and  thus  lost  sight  of  the  bird  for  good. 

Before  going  to  camp,  and  while  crossing  a broad, 
open  and  almost  level  plain  we  saw,  about  400  yards 
ahead  of  us  another  wild  cat,  going  along  leisurely. 
I immediately  put  my  horse  at  a very  fast  gallop, 
intending  to  gain  lots  of  ground  on  the  cat  before  he 
became  alarmed.  I did  so,  and  the  animal  was  so 
careless  that  I had  gained  a hundred  yards  on  him 
before  he  waked  up,  and  even  then  he  increased  his 
speed  only  a little  bit,  much  to  my  satisfaction. 
Finally,  when  the  cat  began  running  his  best  it  was 


172 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


too  late,  as  I intended  it  should  be,  and  I easily  closed 
on  him.  About  three  fourths  of  a mile  down  the 
gradual  slope  there  was  a dry  creek  with  no  brush 
along  its  banks,  and  with  very  little  depth.  The 
creek  was  crooked,  and  when  the  cat  jumped  in  and 
ran  down  it  I jumped  it  on  my  horse  and  headed  off 
my  game,  and  then  I used  my  shot  gun  again. 

After  crossing  the  North  Fork  we  followed  our 
compass  readings  and  passed  about  three  miles  below 
the  spring  on  the  Salt  Fork  where  I saw  old  Sweet  and 
his  dugout  in  1884,  but  a great  change  had  taken  place 
since  then.  As  we  rode  we  saw  the  beginnings  of 
the  present  town  of  Mangum,  the  county  seat  of  a 
great  county.  Several  church  steeples  and  the  cupola 
of  a court  house  were  visible,  also  several  hundred 
dwelling  houses,  and  along  the  bold  stream  of  gypsum 
water  further  west  we  saw  many  farms. 

By  the  compass  and  my  military  map  we  travelled 
to  that  township  at  the  southwest  corner  of  Greer 
County,  going  about  fifteen  miles  nearly  straight  to 
the  only  good  spring  of  good  water  that  was  shown  on 
the  map  in  that  vicinity,  and  the  only  one  shown  on 
the  big  creek  of  alkali  water  where  we  had  to  camp. 
From  my  camp  at  this  fine  spring  I rode  all  over  the 
township,  and  found  no  sign  of  any  one’s  having  been 
there  except  an  old  wagon  track  which  had  been  made 
weeks,  and  perhaps  months  before  our  arrival  there. 
Red  River  stood  in  pools  far  apart,  and  there  was  no 
other  water  in,  or  bordering  on,  that  township. 

Thus  we  could  find  no  sign  of  any  one  on  either 
township.  I was  convinced  that  the  man  who  had 
caused  all  this  trouble  had  sat  in  his  office  at  Fort 
Worth,  Texas,  with  a map  before  him,  and  had 
selected  two  townships  where  the  maps  apparently 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


173 


indicated  many  water  courses,  supposedly  full  of 
water.  We  found  no  water  in  any  of  these  water 
courses,  and  having  completed  our  task  we  started 
homeward. 

I found  awaiting  me  a letter  from  Washington,  a 
very  short  one,  but  long  enough  for  the  purpose.  It 

said,  “Oh,  Mr.  Crane,  I must . But  I mustn’t  say 

a word,  the  Captain  would  scold  me.”  I needed  no 
further  information,  my  detail  was  sure,  and  so  it  was. 
In  due  time  it  came,  and  about  the  same  time  came 
the  order  changing  the  station  of  the  24th  Infantry 
to  New  Mexico  and  Arizona,  my  own  company  going 
to  San  Carlos  Indian  Agency,  on  the  Gila  River,  a 
place  almost  as  hot  as  Yuma. 

But  there  was  more  bother  with  the  Kiowa  Indians, 
this  time  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  camps  that  I 
visited  in  1884,  and  I was  again  selected  to  ride  with 
the  cavalry.  With  a small  detachment  of  cavalry  I 
left  Sill  on  May  25,  1888,  and  visited  many  Kiowa 
camps  and  delivered  many  more  plain  talks  like  those 
I gave  Big  Bow  and  his  friends  in  July,  1884.  Again 
I had  a very  small  force  to  back  up  my  position,  but 
the  lapse  of  four  years  had  made  a great  change  in  the 
Indians.  I had  no  trouble  in  dealing  satisfactorily 
with  them,  and  after  riding  around  and  visiting  their 
camps,  and  hunting  and  fishing  here  and  there  as  I 
rode,  I returned  to  Fort  Sill  to  find  that  my  company 
and  the  others  of  the  24th  Infantry  had  gone.  How- 
ever, I had  been  absent  only  about  ten  or  twelve  days. 

This  was  early  in  June  and  I prepared  to  follow 
my  own  people.  For  baggage  I had  only  one  trunk, 
one  box  and  one  roll  of  bedding,  and  my  packing  was 
quickly  accomplished.  I kept  my  bedding  roll  open 
to  the  very  last  minute,  using  it  as  a “catch  all”  for 


174 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  things  for  which  I had  no  other  place  to  put  them. 
I put  my  good  Scott  shot  gun  in  it,  also  a range  finder 
just  invented  by  Lieut.  Sedgwick  Pratt,  of  the 
Artillery,  and  many  other  odds  and  ends. 

Before  leaving  I carefully  turned  over  to  the  Quar- 
termaster, Lieut.  A.  A.  Augur,  my  box  and  bedding 
roll,  and  I never  again  saw  the  latter,  but  it  greatly 
assisted  me  to  recover  damages  from  the  railroad  that 
I promptly  reported  from  San  Carlos  as  soon  as  I was 
sure  of  its  having  been  mislaid.  I began  writing  to 
various  railroad  officials,  trying  to  locate  the  roll 
when  I discovered  that  it  did  not  accompany  me  or 
closely  follow  me,  and  in  my  first  letter  I enumerated 
all  the  articles  I could  remember  putting  in  the  roll, 
and  I gave  as  a good  reason  for  my  anxiety  the  respec- 
tive value  of  the  articles,  each  value  given,  and  to 
these  letters  I owe  the  recovery  of  damages  for  the 
loss  of  the  roll,  for  the  letter  enumerating  the  contents 
was  written  before  there  was  any  suggestion  of  pay- 
ment of  damages.  It  took  a year  to  actually  get  the 
money,  and  I made  my  application  through  the 
Quartermaster  General  of  the  Army. 

On  the  road  from  Sill,  at  the  railroad  station  in 
Texas,  I had  to  deposit  my  good  rifle  in  the  express 
car,  notwithstanding  my  offer  to  protect  that  train 
against  train  robbers  if  allowed  possession  of  my 
weapon  en  route,  and  on  that  same  road  a train  was 
held  up  during  the  next  36  hours.  The  trainman 
wanted  that  50  cents.  On  my  arrival  in  Kansas  City 
I discovered  that  my  rifle  had  gone  on  to  St.  Louis, 
and  this  gave  me  more  correspondence  with  the  rail- 
road people.  I did  not  then  know  of  the  loss  of  my 
bedding  roll,  and  I tried  hard  to  recover  my  rifle 
which  I was  very  fond  of.  I made  my  application 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


175 


straight  to  the  railroad  company.  Later  on  I got  my 
rifle  back. 

I stopped  a day  or  two  at  Fort  Leavenworth  to 
see  old  friends,  and  then  I went  on  to  Arizona.  At 
Bowie  Station  I left  the  railroad  and  boarded  a small 
stage  for  San  Carlos  Agency,  some  90  miles  distant. 

As  I rode  on  that  buckboard  stage  down  the  Gila 
River  Valley  from  Solomon ville  I certainly  enjoyed 
the  sight  of  the  beautiful  and  flourishing  farms  of  the 
Mormon  settlers  in  that  valley.  These  people  are 
adepts  in  irrigation  farming.  I stopped  one  night  at 
Old  Fort  Thomas,  where  the  stage  made  an  all  night 
halt.  I saw  there  old  friends  of  the  10th  Cavalry 
and  I found  there  two  companies  of  the  24th  Infantry. 
At  San  Carlos  I found  my  company  (“C”)  and  several 
others  of  the  24th  Infantry.  Capt.  Lewis  Johnson 
was  there,  also  Bullis,  Ducat  and  Morris  Wessels. 
The  last  named  was  my  new  captain,  promoted  on 
the  death  of  B.  M.  Custer.  Ducat  had  joined  the 
regiment  at  Sill  a year  before,  by  exchange  with 
Ripley,  giving  the  3rd  Cavalry  for  the  24th  Infantry. 
Bullis  was  Indian  Agent,  and  didn’t  like  the  job  one 
bit,  and  I didn’t  envy  him  his  duties. 

I saw  at  San  Carlos  for  the  first  time  the  9th  Infan- 
try, their  Lieut.  Col.,  Snyder  being  post  commander, 
and  Captain  Leonard  Hay,  a brother  of  the  statesman 
John  Hay,  commanded  the  one  company  of  the  9th 
Infantry  stationed  there.  Lieut.  C.  R.  Noyes  was  his 
first  lieutenant. 

During  my  short  stay  at  this  place  Gen.  Nelson  A. 
Miles  came  all  the  way  from  his  headquarters  at  San 
Francisco  to  investigate  a small  Indian  trouble.  He 
was  accompanied  by  my  classmate  Lieut.  C.  B.  Gate- 
wood,  6th  Cav.  and  Lieut.  Leonard  Wood,  Med.  Dept. 


176 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Gatewood  was  brought  along  because  of  his  knowledge 
of  the  Arizona  Indian  and  his  great  influence  with  the 
tribes  about  the  agency.  Wood  was  a very  attractive, 
energetic  young  surgeon  who  showed  a great  liking 
for  outdoor  life  and  field  work.  He  had  been  with 
Capt.  H.  W.  Lawton,  4th  Cav.,  during  his  campaign 
against  Geronimo  and  his  Chiricahua  Apaches  two 
years  before.  Gatewood  was  the  hero,  the  real  hero, 
in  my  humble  opinion,  of  that  campaign.  I believe 
that  during  his  two  visits  to  Geronimo’s  camp,  down 
in  old  Mexico,  he  induced  the  Indians  to  come  in  and 
surrender  when  Lawton  could  not  have  compelled 
such  action.  I saw  Gatewood  later  on  and  heard  his 
story.  He  was  not  a man  to  exaggerate  anything, 
especially  his  own  share  of  a transaction. 

Officers  were  very  scarce  in  Arizona  at  that  time, 
and  I was  afraid  that  when  General  Miles  saw  how 
few  there  were  of  us  at  the  agency  my  detail  to  the 
Military  Academy  would  be  revoked,  but  to  my  great 
relief  it  was  not,  and  I was  not  interfered  with,  except 
to  be  sent  up  the  Gila  River  about  15  miles  to  locate 
a soldier  camp  of  the  24th  Infantry  with  special 
reference  to  possible  trouble  with  the  Apaches. 

The  river  water  there  was  very  dark,  as  a result  of 
the  mines  about  Clifton,  but  there  were  still  fish  in  the 
river.  Quail  were  very  abundant,  but  the  season  for 
hunting  was  several  months  off. 

All  of  the  officers  at  San  Carlos  messed  together, 
and  two  Chinamen  ran  the  mess.  These  Chinamen 
seemed  never  to  sleep,  they  were  so  industrious.  At 
the  mess  was  Capt.  Charles  Viele  of  the  10th  Cav.,  an 
excellent  officer  who  sometimes  exaggerated  in  harm- 
less description  of  what  No.  1 had  done.  One  of  his 
stories  was  as  follows: 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


177 


“One  day,  while  fishing  in  a mountain  stream  near 
Fort  Apache,  I had  just  hooked  a fine  mountain  trout, 
and  I was  having  quite  a busy  time  when  I heard 
some  small  rocks  rattling  down  the  mountain  side 
behind  me.  Looking  around  I saw  a big  bear  sliding 
down  the  mountain  directly  towards  me . Coolly  I drew 
my  Colt  revolver,  shot  and  killed  the  bear  and  at  the 
same  instant  I pulled  the  big  trout  to  land.  My  bear 
was  dead  also.” 

General  Miles  called  upon  Capt.  Viele  to  tell  that 
story  a number  of  times  before  he  left  us,  but  Viele 
never  varied  in  telling  it. 

I was  at  San  Carlos  only  eight  or  ten  weeks,  and  I 
was  delighted  that  my  stay  was  to  be  no  longer.  It 
was  the  hottest  place  that  I ever  served  at,  and  the 
only  breeze  came  in  the  nature  of  a hot  sand  storm 
which  was  suffocating. 

Bullis  was  Indian  Agent  and  had  lots  of  trouble 
trying  to  keep  his  Apaches  from  drinking  “tizwin,” 
a liquor  made  by  allowing  corn  to  ferment  in  water 
till  it  was  strong  enough  to  make  one  drunk  after 
drinking  several  quarts  of  it.  A tizwin  drunk  caused 
the  trouble  which  brought  General  Miles  to  visit  us. 

The  Apaches  were  not  horseback  Indians  like  the 
Comanches  and  Kiowas,  although  they  frequently 
took  to  horse  when  they  broke  out.  They  were  not 
such  large  men  as  the  others  named,  but  they  were 
built  expressly  for  mountain  climbing  on  foot,  and  at 
such  exercise  they  were  excellent. 

The  only  duties  that  I remember  performing  at 
San  Carlos  were  one  season’s  target  practice  and  that 
one  trip  up  the  Gila  to  locate  a camp  site  at  which  to 
place  a small  detachment  of  24th  Infantry  to  protect 


178 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


against  raids  by  small  bands  of  Indians.  This  was 
during  the  small  Indian  trouble  alluded  to,  and  this 
trouble  didn’t  amount  to  much,  but  the  result  was 
perhaps  due  in  great  measure  to  the  efforts  of  Capt. 
Philip  Lee  and  Lieut.  James  Watson,  both  of  the  10th 
Cav.  Watson  was  our  best  young  officer  there  for 
that  kind  of  duty,  and  Lee  showed  himself  an  excellent 
officer  for  such  wrork.  Both  of  these  officers  were  very 
busy,  and  had  already  performed  their  good  work 
before  the  arrival  of  General  Miles,  making  Gate- 
wood’s task  easier  and  simpler.  Without  skillful 
handling  of  that  little  Indian  affair  we  would  have  had 
a much  bigger  one. 

About  the  middle  of  August  I started  for  West 
Point  with  Lieut.  Noyes,  9th  Infantry,  who  was  also 
detailed  for  duty  at  the  Military  Academy.  He  went 
there  in  “math.”  I was  never  so  glad  to  get  away 
from  any  other  station.  The  heat  was  awful,  and  the 
big  red  ants  were  hotter,  and  the  centipedes  more 
numerous  than  I had  ever  seen  before.  The  special 
home  of  the  centipedes  was  under  our  water  barrel 
just  outside  our  frame  tents,  next  to  the  moist  soil. 

I tented  with  Ducat,  and  frequently  we  had  only  to 
slightly  tilt  over  our  water  barrel  to  see  and  kill  some 
new  centipedes  which  had  been  attracted  by  the  moist 
earth  under  the  water  barrel.  But  Noyes  and  I got 
away  at  last,  and  this  time  we  took  that  long,  hot, 
dusty,  jerky  stage  ride  to  Bowie  Station.  I was 
delighted  to  get  away  from  Arizona  where  officers 
were  so  scarce  that  I was  liable  to  lose  my  fine  detail. 
But  for  that  promised  detail  I would  have  had  a fine 
time  hunting  in  the  great  game  country  around  San 
Carlos. 


CHAPTER  VII 


I stopped  at  Fort  Leavenworth  en  route  to  West 
Point,  and  I reported  for  duty  on  the  28th  of  August 
as  required  by  my  order.  I found  myself  senior 
assistant  instructor  in  Infantry  Tactics,  being  next 
in  rank  to  the  commandant  of  cadets  himself  who 
happened  to  be  an  infantryman.  Major  Hamilton 
S.  Hawkins,  Infantry,  was  commandant,  and  Col.  J. 
G.  Parke,  Engineers,  was  superintendent.  The  latter 
was  relieved  a year  after  by  another  engineer  officer, 
Col.  J.  M.  Wilson. 

On  my  way  through  New  York  I met  at  the  Grand 
Hotel  Capt.  J.  M.  K.  Davis,  Artillery,  who  had  been  a 
tactical  officer  during  my  cadet  days,  and  he  gave  me 
some  good  advice  with  reference  to  hard  study  of  the 
Academic  Regulations  and  abiding  by  them. 

My  first  care,  after  reporting  for  duty,  was  to  study 
hard  those  Regulations,  but  before  reporting  any 
cadet  I took  special  pains  to  point  out  to  him  the 
identical  improvement  which  I wanted  made,  and  the 
special  paragraph  of  the  Regulations  applied  to  the 
case.  But,  cadets  need  more  proof,  some  of  them 
being  “from  Missouri,”  and  I soon  let  them  have  it. 
At  the  first  Sunday  Morning  Inspection  of  my  com- 
pany (“B”)  of  cadets  I convinced  them  that  I knew 
how  and  where  to  find  dirt  and  rust  on  a rifle.  I 
reported  about  50  for  dirt  and  rust  on  rifle  or  bayonet, 

179 


180 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


and  for  articles  not  properly  arranged  in  alcove,  or  in 
clothes  press,  or  for  floors  not  properly  swept.  I did 
not  report  all  that  deserved  it,  because  I had  doubts 
as  to  Cadet  Captain  Lassiter  remembering  so  many 
reports,  and  I therefore  stopped  about  the  time  I 
reached  the  fourth  classmen  in  my  inspection  of  the 
men  under  arms.  I discovered  that  Lassiter  was 
noted  for  his  wonderful  memory,  and  deservedly  so. 
He  remembered  all  the  reports  that  I had  given  him 
to  make  in  my  name,  also  my  reasons  for  each  report, 
thus  corroborating  my  reports  and  causing  them  to 
“stick.” 

All  the  following  week  and  ever  afterwards  I 
reported  strictly  for  all  violations  of  Regulations,  and 
on  the  second  Sunday  Morning  Inspection  I found  that 
I could  not  justly  make  more  than  ten  reports,  and 
on  the  next  not  more  than  five.  I had  made  my  cadets 
know  what  I wanted,  and  they  were  quick  to  under- 
stand. From  that  time  on  I did  not  have  to  make  as 
many  reports  as  were  made  by  the  other  tactical 
officers,  who  had  not  adhered  so  closely  to  the  Regu- 
lations in  the  beginning.  I tried  to  be  absolutely  fair, 
just  and  impartial,  and  at  the  same  time  very  strict. 

When  I was  a cadet  my  classmates  gave  me  several 
nicknames,  calling  me  “Ranger,”  “Cowboy,”  “Bull- 
whacker,”  “Whale,”  etc.,  but  I now  found  that  I was 
“Ichabod, ” even  “Old  Ichabod, ” but  my  nicknames 
never  bothered  me. 

Although,  as  a result  of  Major  Morse  K.  Taylor's 
efforts,  our  enlisted  men  had  been  using  spring  bunk 
bottoms  for  several  years  I found  that  the  cadets  were 
still  using  the  old  wooden  slats.  I invited  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Commandant  to  the  fact,  and  it  was  soon 
remedied. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


181 


In  addition  to  requiring  great  cleanliness  of  rifle 
and  room  I made  it  my  special  duty  to  protect  the 
new  comer,  the  “plebe”  sentinel  on  post,  also  to  up- 
hold my  cadet  officers  in  the  discharge  of  their  duties, 
all  this  in  the  interest  of  good  order  and  military 
discipline.  Some  officers  now  living  will  remember 
the  success  of  some  of  my  efforts  in  behalf  of  the  plebe 
sentinel.  I was  not  so  successful  in  protecting  my 
cadet  officers. 

While  inspecting  the  rooms  of  the  cadets  of  my 
company  one  morning  I found  my  cadet  captain 
washing  his  face  in  bloody  water,  and  I easily  under- 
stood that  he  had  been  fighting.  I quickly  connected 
this  with  one  or  two  recent  reports  which  he  had  made 
against  a sergeant  of  the  company,  and  therefore  I 
had  a good  idea  as  to  the  cause  of  his  condition.  In- 
quiring as  to  the  cause  of  the  bleeding  I was  informed 
that  there  had  been  a “contusion.”  Pushing  my 
inquiry  further  I learned  that  a sergeant  of  the  com- 
pany had  taken  offence  at  one  or  two  of  his  official 
reports  and  had  challenged  him  to  fight  on  account  of 
these  reports.  I suggested  the  name  of  the  sergeant 
and  learned  that  I was  right. 

I promptly  went  to  the  Commandant,  explaining 
the  matter  and  urging  immediate  punishment  of  the 
cadet  who  had  beaten  up  my  cadet  captain.  Then  the 
Commandant  told  me  how,  in  his  time,  “Jeb”  Stuart 
(afterwards  the  celebrated  cavalry  leader  of  the  South) 
was  cadet  captain  of  his  company  and  had  lots  of 
trouble  trying  to  get  his  classmates  to  appear  -with 
shoes  properly  polished  at  formations  for  dress  parade, 
and  that  finally  one  of  them  took  offence  at  being 
reported  by  him  for  “shoes  not  properly  polished  at 
dress  parade,”  had  invited  Stuart  down  to  Dade’s 


182 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Monument  and  had  pounded  him  good  with  his  fists, 
causing  Stuart  to  stay  in  the  cadet  hospital  several 
days. 

At  Stuart’s  first  reappearance  he  made  his  company 
a little  speech,  telling  why  he  went  to  the  hospital,  and 
repeating  his  determination  to  have  his  classmates 
appear  with  shoes  properly  polished  at  formation  for 
dress  parade.  After  a few  days  more  Stuart  went 
again  to  the  hospital  with  a battered  face  caused  by 
another  visit  to  Dade’s  Monument.  Again,  at  his 
first  appearance  after  returning  to  duty  Stuart  told 
his  company  of  cadets  the  history  of  his  visit  to  Dade’s 
Monument,  and  again  he  repeated  his  determination 
to  have  his  classmates  wear  properly  polished  shoes  to 
dress  parade. 

The  Commandant  then  added  that  “Jeb  Stuart 
had  no  more  trouble,  having  won  the  respect  and 
admiration  of  the  entire  company.” 

“But,  Colonel,”  I argued,  “what  was  Jeb  Stuart’s 
tactical  officer  doing  all  that  time?  He  was  surely 
neglecting  his  duty  in  allowing  such  proceedings  in  his 
company;  he  should  have  upheld  his  cadet  captain 
in  the  proper  discharge  of  his  military  duties,  which 
would  at  least  have  prevented  a repetition  of  the  first 
trouble.  That  is  what  I am  trying  to  do,  and  I think 
that  my  cadet  sergeant  should  be  punished.” 

The  Commandant  agreed  to  let  my  report  against 
the  cadet  sergeant  proceed  the  usual  way,  which 
meant  almost  certain  punishment.  On  returning 
next  day  from  New  York  I learned  that  at  the  special 
request  of  my  cadet  captain  his  opponent  had  been 
released  from  arrest  and  restored  to  duty.  The  Com- 
mandant’s kind  heart  had  saved  the  cadet  sergeant 
from  just  punishment. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


183 


Duty  at  our  great  military  school  was  very  pleasant, 
and  the  tactical  officers  had  the  easiest  and  most 
congenial  duties  to  perform.  Ours  were  purely  mili- 
tary duties,  while  the  other  officers  were  employed  in 
teaching  in  subjects  not  essentially  military,  although 
very  important.  These  latter  had,  however,  each 
summer,  a vacation  of  two  or  three  months  to  spend 
in  Europe,  or  anywhere  else,  while  we  tactical  officers 
had  to  be  content  with  less  time  in  the  winter. 

Prominent  men  came  to  attend  the  graduating 
exercises,  and  General  W.  T.  Sherman  seldom  missed 
them  and  always  showed  his  great  love  and  admira- 
tion for  the  Corps  of  Cadets.  Eminent  foreigners 
came  to  get  a peep  at  our  methods  of  instruction. 
During  the  summer  the  cadets  were  in  camp,  and  the 
tactical  officers  were  specially  on  duty  then.  There  is 
no  place  in  all  the  United  States  so  attractive  to  the 
gentler  sex  as  West  Point  in  the  summer.  Most  of  the 
officers  are  absent  then,  and  one  class  of  the  cadets 
are  on  furlough,  nevertheless  the  uniform  is  to  be 
seen  everywhere,  and  the  wearers  have  sufficient 
leisure  to  help  make  time  fly  fast. 

Lieut.  Hamilton  S.  Rowan,  of  the  class  of  ’76,  the 
class  with  which  I began  my  cadet  life,  lived  next 
door  to  the  angle  of  barracks  where  I had  my  bachelor 
quarters,  and  there  came  visiting  the  Rowans  a Miss 
Martha  Graham  Mitchell,  of  Lancaster,  Pa.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  the  Reverend  James  Mitchell,  a 
Presbyterian  minister,  and  of  his  wife  Henrietta 
Michler,  a sister  of  Col.  Michler,  U.  S.  Engineers. 
By  her  mother’s  side  Miss  Mitchell  was  descended 
from  John  Hart,  a signer  of  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence. I did  not  stop  visiting  my  classmate’s 
quarters  because  a girl  visitor  had  arrived. 


184 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


At  that  time  the  Commandant  was  trying  to  have 
only  bachelor  officers  commanding  cadet  companies, 
and  my  “singleblessedness”  had  been  one  of  my  chief 
recommendations,  so  the  Commandant  informed  me 
when  he  learned  of  my  engagement  to  Miss  Mitchell, 
and  he  therefore  applied  for  my  relief  from  duty  at 
the  Military  Academy,  to  take  effect  as  soon  as  I 
married,  which  I did  December  26,  1889,  Lieut.  C.  R. 
Noyes  being  my  best  man.  But  the  Superintendent, 
in  forwarding  the  Commandant’s  letter  said  in  his 
indorsement  that  to  relieve  a young  officer  imme- 
diately after  his  marriage  would  look  too  much  like 
punishing  him  for  that  act,  and  he  therefore  recom- 
mended that  I be  not  relieved  immediately,  but  six 
months  thereafter.  I was  relieved  from  duty  at 
West  Point  July  1,  1890,  but  I landed  nicely  on  my 
feet,  for  a few  weeks  prior  to  that  date  I had  received 
from  Zenas  R.  Bliss,  then  Colonel  of  the  24th  Infantry, 
an  offer  of  the  regimental  adjutancy,  which  I hastened 
to  accept. 

Col.  Hawkins  meant  to  be  consistent,  but  he  soon 
found  out  that  he  could  not,  under  the  circumstances. 
Then  he  tried  to  get  the  order  relieving  me  revoked, 
but  it  was  too  late,  my  successor  had  been  ordered 
there,  and  I was  very  glad  to  rejoin  my  regiment,  but 
I will  tell  a little  more  of  my  duty  at  West  Point. 

In  the  spring  of  1889  I accompanied  the  Corps  of 
Cadets  to  New  York  to  take  part  in  the  great  parade 
there  commemorating  the  100th  anniversary  of  Wash- 
ington’s first  inauguration  as  our  country’s  first  and 
greatest  President.  We  marched  through  the  big 
city,  and  many  were  the  incidents  which  tested  the 
drill,  discipline  and  reliability  under  strain,  of  that  in- 
comparable body  of  troops,  the  U.  S.  Corps  of  Cadets. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


185 


Vehicles  of  the  Fire  Department,  and  Hospital 
Emergency  wagons  came  from  the  front  and  from  the 
rear,  at  full  speed,  straight  at  the  marching  column  of 
cadets,  and  from  my  post  in  front  of  the  right  flank 
of  the  leading  company  I looked  and  doubted,  but 
only  for  an  instant.  The  Commandant,  from  his 
position  in  front  of  us  all,  could  not  make  any  com- 
mand heard,  and  he  could  not  see  what  was  happening 
in  the  rear,  so  that  any  personal  supervision  from  him 
was  impossible. 

But,  the  situation  was  always  safe.  The  cadet 
officer  commanding  the  leading  company  (or  rear 
company)  quickly  and  coolly  gave  the  command, 
“Two  fours  from  right  (or  left)  to  rear.  Double  time. 
March,”  and  each  company  commander,  one  after 
the  other,  followed  his  example,  thus  opening  a lane 
promptly  and  gradually,  and  it  was  closed  just  as 
easily  and  smoothly.  After  the  vehicle  had  passed 
through  at  breakneck  speed  each  commander,  at  the 
right  instant  gave  the  command,  “Rear  fours.  Left 
(or  right)  front  into  line.  Double  time.  March.” 
One  after  another  the  cadet  companies  executed  these 
different  commands  perfectly,  and  just  as  though  they 
had  been  practicing  for  what  happened,  and  I knew 
that  such  had  not  been  the  case.  The  regular  drill 
commands  had  been  used,  and  the  multitude  filling 
the  houses  and  side  walks  also  knew  that  what  they 
had  seen  was  not  included  in  the  program,  and  for  that 
reason  their  applause  was  all  the  greater,  and  more 
spontaneously  given. 

During  the  summer  of  1889,  while  the  Corps  was 
in  camp,  I was  at  the  Commandant’s  tent  alone,  one 
day,  and  looking  out  across  the  plain  I saw  General 
Sherman  approaching  from  near  the  Academic  Build- 


186 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


ings,  and  still  several  hundred  yards  away.  He  had 
shortly  before  been  retired  on  reaching  the  age  limit 
(64),  and  he  was  in  civilian  clothes,  but,  having  some- 
how heard  of  his  coming  I managed  to  recognize  him, 
but  I feared  for  the  cadet  sentinel  on  Post  Number 
One.  This  was  the  General’s  first  visit  to  West  Point 
since  retirement,  and  the  General,  as  he  soon  informed 
me,  wondered  what  the  cadet  sentinel  would  do,  know- 
ing that  he,  the  General,  was  no  longer  entitled  to  the 
honors  previously  given  him  by  the  guard. 

But  he  had  faith  in  Cadet  intelligence,  and  in  their 
ability  to  do  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time,  and 
the  following  instance  was  to  strengthen  that  faith. 

When  he  had  arrived  at  the  spot  where  the  cadet 
sentinel  had  been  accustomed  to  announce  the  ap- 
proach of  a general  officer  the  General  was  delighted 
to  hear  the  sentinel’s  clear  voice  ring  out,  “Turn  out 
the  guard  for  General  Sherman.”  It  had  previously 
been,  “for  the  Commanding  General,”  and  the  sub- 
stitution of  “General  Sherman”  was  not  strictly  and 
absolutely  correct  from  the  military  standpoint.  But, 
it  was  done,  and  to  the  General’s  great  satisfaction, 
and  it  was  then  given  me  to  listen  to  him  talk  as  only 
he  could  talk.  He  fondly  loved  the  Corps  of  Cadets, 
and  did  not  try  to  conceal  his  feelings. 

During  that  same  cadet  encampment  I was 
awakened  one  night  about  midnight  while  sleeping 
in  my  tent,  and  I was  puzzled  to  know  the  cause,  but 
the  expression  “John  L.  Sullivan  and  his  boodle” 
seemed  ringing  in  my  ears,  and  I could  not  understand 
it.  The  mystery  was  soon  cleared  up.  As  I lay  on  my 
cot,  now  wide  awake,  I distinctly  heard  the  cadet 
sentinel  in  rear  of  the  Commandant’s  tent  call  out  his 
challenge  “W7ho  comes  there?”  and  then  I heard  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


187 


clash  of  bayonets  crossing  and  some  muffled  expres- 
sions from  the  same  direction.  Then  I heard  the 
relief  of  the  guard  approaching  the  same  sentinel, 
who  was  already  busy,  but  who  managed  to  challenge 
“Who  comes  there?”  The  first  challenge  had  been 
answered  by  the  expression  “John  L.  Sullivan  and 
his  boodle,  ” and  it  helped  to  clear  up  my  ideas,  and 
this  time  the  answer  was  “Relief.  ” Then  I understood 
the  whole  scheme. 

The  sentinel  called  out  “Halt  relief.  Advance 
Corporal  with  the  countersign,”  as  was  required  in 
those  days.  Then  I heard  the  Corporal  advance  and 
assist  the  first  man  in  hazing  the  sentinel,  who  was 
evidently  a “plebe.” 

I now  took  a hand.  I called  out,  “Number  One,” 
and  I had  to  repeat,  and  add,  “Sentinel  on  Number 
One”  before  that  individual  replied  “Yes,  Sir.”  I 
went  on  to  say,  “Sentinel,  I am  Lieutenant  Crane. 
Do  you  understand  me?”  to  which  he  answered, 
“Yes,  Sir.” 

“Identify  that  man  who  crossed  bayonets  with  you. 
Do  you  know  him?”  and  again  he  replied,  “Yes,  Sir.” 

“Identify  the  Corporal  of  the  guard;  do  you  know 
him,  too?”  Still  the  answer  was  “Yes,  Sir.” 

I then  dressed  and  went  out  to  see  the  sentinel,  and 
the  corporal,  and  the  man  who  had  answered,  “John 
L.  Sullivan  and  his  boodle.”  The  last  man  was  the 
sentinel  from  the  adjoining  post  who  thought  he  would 
have  a little  fun  with  a new  cadet  on  post.  He  and  the 
corporal  were  classmates;  I am  sure  they  remember  the 
incident,  and  their  punishment.  The  sentinel  who 
did  the  hazing  was  assigned  to  the  24th  Infantry.  I 
don’t  believe  that  he  ever  forgave  me  completely. 

I had  other  corporals  of  the  guard  punished  for 


188 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


trying  to  haze  their  plebe  sentinels  while  they  were  on 
post.  I always  considered  the  duties  of  a sentinel 
very  important,  and  I meant  to  impress  that  idea  on 
the  cadets. 

During  the  last  few  months  of  my  stay  at  West 
Point,  I commanded  the  Band,  and  my  company  was 
given  to  another  officer.  As  next  in  rank  in  the  in- 
fantry arm  to  the  Commandant  himself  I was  entitled 
to  increased  pay  regardless  of  my  duties,  while  the 
other  officer  had  to  command  a cadet  company  in 
order  to  draw  such  increased  pay.  But  the  other 
officer  was  married,  and  had  been  called  on  to  refund 
some  increased  pay  previously  given  him,  and  the 
Commandant  now  wished  to  make  that  amount  good 
to  the  officer.  That  circumstance  made  the  Com- 
mandant submit  a second  letter,  requesting  that  the 
first  one  be  withdrawn. 

For  my  marriage,  because  of  the  assistance  which 
I had  given  my  family,  I had  to  sell  the  block  in  Laredo 
which  Capt.  Markley  had  helped  me  to  buy.  I gave 
$300  for  it,  and  I sold  the  vacant  block  for  double  that 
amount  after  three  years’  ownership,  and  now  it  is 
worth  twenty  times  that  much.  However,  when  a 
man  marries  he  must  have  the  money.  It  was  the 
same  then  as  it  is  now,  in  that  respect. 

After  several  weeks  spent  in  New  York  and  in 
Lancaster,  Pa.,  we  returned  to  West  Point  where  we 
lived  upstairs  over  Lieut.  Flynn,  8th  Cavalry,  keeping 
house  in  a modest  way,  with  only  a cook. 

Soon  after  returning  from  our  honeymoon  I tried 

to  get  my  life  insured.  Major  , the  post 

surgeon,  examined  me  for  one  of  the  great  New  York 
insurance  companies.  After  tapping  me  many  times 
on  the  back  and  chest,  and  spending  much  time  listen- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


189 


ing  to  my  lungs  and  heart  beats,  with  his  ear  against 
my  body,  he  straightened  up  and  said,  “ I would  advise 
you  to  stop  right  here.” 

In  reply  to  a series  of  questions  from  me  he  in- 
formed me  that  he  had  observed  heart  symptoms 
which  indicated  serious  heart  trouble  there;  that  my 
heart  had  been  greatly  damaged  by  my  several  at- 
tacks of  rheumatism,  giving  me  at  most  about  ten 
short  years  to  live;  that  another  hard  attack  of 
rheumatism  would  take  me  off,  and  that  I might  look 
for  it  any  time,  in  case  my  system  should  become  run 
down;  that  my  new  station  at  Fort  Bayard,  New 
Mexico,  was  very  high  and  that  such  great  altitude 
was  very  conducive  to  rheumatism  and  heart  trouble. 

By  that  time  I had  become  somewhat  irritated, 

and  I finally  told  him,  “Major , I am  going 

down  to  New  Mexico  and  I’ll  give  your  rheumatism 
and  weak  heart  a good  test.  I am  a hunter,  and  I am 
going  to  run  all  over  those  mountains  after  bear  and 
deer.  But,  being  forewarned  I am  forearmed,  and 
I’ll  live  forever.” 

I then  obtained  from  him  the  valuable  information 
that  my  best  preventive  of  rheumatism  and  weak 
heart  would  be  a good  physical  condition  generally, 
and  that  whatever  system  of  diet  and  exercise  would 
most  benefit  my  general  condition  would  also  best 
tend  to  keep  away  rheumatism.  I then  requested 
him  to  fill  out  and  complete  the  form  of  examination, 
and  I took  it  away  with  me.  Of  course  what  the 
surgeon  had  told  me  had  depressed  me  very  much, 
but  I consoled  myself  a little  by  trying  to  believe  that 
he  was  mistaken,  or,  at  least,  that  he  didn’t  know  it  all . 

So,  a few  weeks  later  I took  that  paper  with  me 
into  the  New  York  office  of  “The  Equitable,”  one  of 


190 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  biggest  insurance  companies  in  the  world,  and 
there  I told  the  whole  story  and  requested  an  examina- 
tion with  view  to  being  insured  for  a small  amount. 
I was  given  a very  full  and  careful  examination  by 
their  surgeon,  and  was  told  by  him  that  but  for  the 
paper  which  I had  brought  with  me  I would  be 
promptly  accepted,  and  that,  if  at  the  end  of  a year 
I should  remain  in  such  good  condition,  I would  be 

accepted  by  The  Equitable.  Major  died 

several  years  afterwards,  and  I have  lived  on  these 
many  years.  I have  always  believed  that  mild 
dyspepsia  had  been  mistaken  for  heart  disease,  and  I 
believe  that  such  mistake  is  made  by  many  physicians. 

On  July  6,  1890,  we  left  for  Fort  Bayard,  New 
Mexico,  stopping  about  a week  at  Lancaster,  Pa.,  and 
another  week  with  my  mother  at  old  Independence, 
Texas.  We  stopped  with  our  parents.  We  reached 
Fort  Bayard  early  in  August,  1890,  and  I was  promptly 
appointed  regimental  adjutant  of  the  24th  Infantry 
by  my  colonel,  Zenas  R.  Bliss,  whom  I found  to  be 
one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  the  “Old  Army”  that 
I ever  saw,  and  his  wife  was  even  better. 

Duty  under  Col.  Bliss  was  pleasant  to  all.  He  was 
not  aggressive,  but  he  knew  thoroughly  the  duties  of  a 
regimental  and  post  commander,  and  he  quietly 
managed  to  have  every  man  perform  his  duty  well. 
He  punished  no  one  needlessly,  and  did  not  like  to 
drive  any  one  to  the  wall,  but  all  the  time  he  had  a 
most  efficient  and  well  disciplined  command.  After 
I had  been  his  adjutant  a few  weeks  he  informed  me 
one  day  that  in  my  desk  were  some  papers  relating 
to  two  officers  of  the  10th  Cavalry  that  were  no  longer 
needed,  and  he  suggested  to  get  them  lost.  Those 
papers  were  soon  lost,  and  I so  informed  my  Colonel. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


191 


I succeeded  my  classmate  J.  J.  Brereton  as  adjutant, 
and  at  the  same  time  Alfred  M.  Palmer  was  regimental 
quartermaster  and  commissary.  The  post  was 
garrisoned  by  the  Band  and  four  companies  of  the 
24th  Infantry,  and  two  troops  of  cavalry.  At  first 
we  had  the  10th,  then  the  1st,  and  finally  the  1st  and 
7th  Cavalry  with  us,  two  troops  only  at  a time. 

Just  outside  the  post  was  the  small  frontier  town 
Central,  and  eight  miles  distant  was  Silver  City,  the 
terminus  of  the  short  railroad  from  Deming,  N.  M. 
Fourteen  miles  in  the  mountains  was  the  dead  and 
abandoned  town  Georgetown,  which  had  once  been 
an  important  mining  town.  Before  we  left  Bayard 
another  branch  of  the  road  from  Deming  came  in 
between  the  mountains  and  our  post,  the  station 
being  only  about  three  and  a half  miles  away. 

The  post  is  located  on  a small  creek  which  comes 
down  from  the  mountains.  The  mountains  begin 
right  there,  and  the  climbing  is  continuous  for  many 
hundred  feet.  From  Fort  Bayard  we  could  see  many 
miles  of  mountains  in  different  directions,  and  the 
altitude  of  the  post  was  said  to  be  6700  feet.  It  was 
the  healthiest  post  I ever  served  at,  and  the  climate 
was  the  most  pleasant.  We  had  plenty  of  snow  in 
the  winter,  and  it  never  got  so  warm  in  the  shade  as 
to  be  unpleasant.  Previously  it  had  been  an  impor- 
tant station  for  service  against  Indians,  but  by  1890 
that  condition  had  disappeared. 

Kind  hearted  and  jovial  Col.  Bliss  hated  to  be 
alone,  and  he  was  a most  interesting  narrator  of  what 
he  had  seen  and  heard.  He  was  one  of  the  few  men 
who  had  ever  killed  a devil  fish,  and  one  of  his  favorite 
stories  was  that  of  such  an  exploit  near  the  mouth  of 
the  Mississippi  River,  off  Ship  Island  according  to  my 


192 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


recollection,  where  he  succeeded  in  killing  and  bring- 
ing to  land  a huge  specimen  of  the  water  reptile,  half 
fish. 

Nearly  all  of  Col.  Bliss’s  time  in  the  military  service 
was  spent  in  the  southwest,  and  about  half  of  it  in 
Texas. 

During  my  incumbency  as  regimental  adjutant  the 
position  of  regimental  quartermaster  and  commissary 
became  vacant,  and  about  six  months  prior  to  such 
event  Col.  Bliss  very  naturally  asked  me,  “Who  shall 
I make  quartermaster?” 

Without  hesitation  I replied,  “Augur.” 

“All  right,”  he  said,  “write  him  a letter  and  see  if 
he  wants  the  job.” 

I knew  my  classmate,  and  knowing  him  I tried 
hard  to  get  the  Colonel’s  authority  merely  to  issue  the 
necessary  order  later  on  and  say  nothing  to  Augur 
about  it,  but  the  Colonel  insisted  that  Augur  might 
not  wrant  the  position,  and  so  I had  to  write  the  letter. 
Augur  was  then  either  at  Fort  Grant  or  Fort  Huachuca, 
Arizona,  and  I wrote  the  letter  with  great  misgiving. 
After  waiting  a reasonable  length  of  time  for  a reply 
I had  to  write  another,  and  still  another,  with  the 
same  result — no  reply  from  Augur.  Of  course  another 
officer  wras  given  the  much  coveted  regimental  staff 
office.  Col.  Bliss  was  justly  very  much  hurt  by 
Augur’s  silence,  and  I was  exceedingly  sorry  and 
disappointed.  Augur  would  have  made  a most  satis- 
factory and  efficient  quartermaster.  His  ability  in 
handling  all  questions  of  supply  was  great  enough 
for  the  supply  of  a great  army,  but  he  shied  at  the 
possibility  of  some  one  imagining  that  he  had  sought 
a position,  or  that  he  had  owed  a position  to  the  sugges- 
tion of  a friend,  or  by  one.  But,  all  things  considered, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


193 


there  was  no  excuse  whatever  for  his  conduct  on  that 
occasion. 

Col.  Bliss  took  a leave  of  absence  in  1893  or  1894, 
and  on  his  return  he  told  me  that  with  the  U.  S. 
Senator  from  his  state  he  had  called  on  the  President, 
in  the  effort  to  get  promotion  to  brigadier  general,  and 
that  as  a result  of  such  visit  he  hoped  for  good  luck 
before  retirement  for  age.  He  was  promoted  late  in 
1894,  or  early  in  1895,  and  afterwards  reached  another 
star,  retiring  as  a major  general.  His  only  vanity 
was  his  belief  that  he  looked  like  General  W.  S.  Han- 
cock, which  he  really  did,  and  the  big  black  felt  hat 
which  he  wore  made  the  resemblance  more  striking. 

Before  the  departure  of  Col.  Bliss  I was  given  a 
grade,  that  of  captain,  and  I was  assigned  to  the 
command  of  Company  “F,”  in  place  of  Capt.  C.  C. 
Hood,  promoted  to  a majority  in  the  7th  Infantry. 
I was  to  command  that  company  longer  than  any 
other,  and  I found  it  in  excellent  condition,  and  my 
greatest  care  was  to  preserve  the  company  in  as  good 
condition  as  I found  it.  While  Hood’s  methods  were 
different  from  my  own,  I realized  and  appreciated  the 
good  results  he  had  obtained,  and  I gave  him  credit 
for  great  ability  as  a company  commander.  Appar- 
ently he  was  easier  on  his  men  and  exacted  less 
evidence  of  good  discipline  than  I did,  but  good  results 
count  most,  and  Hood  had  obtained  them.  The 
company  was  specially  noted  for  neat  appearance  and 
good  shooting. 

My  sons  William  Carey  and  James  Mitchell  were 
born  in  the  same  room  of  the  same  adobe  set  of  quar- 
ters at  Fort  Bayard,  on  the  25th  of  March,  1891,  and 
the  26th  of  May,  1894,  respectively.  We  had  the 
same  first  nurse  for  both  of  them,  for  one  month  each 


194 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


time.  Her  name  was  Cora  Thomas,  and  she  was  the 
wife  of  a private  of  the  Band.  I was  present  when 
each  of  my  sons  entered  this  world,  and  I gave  all  the 
assistance  I could,  and  I found  that  I could  do  a whole 
lot.  A husband  who  cannot  be  of  any  assistance  at 
the  birth  of  his  own  child  must  have  missed  something 
in  his  make  up  as  a man.  It  is  his  duty  to  be  there, 
and  do  all  he  can  to  make  easier  for  his  wife  a most 
trying  time  of  great  suffering. 

In  the  case  of  the  first  born  we  had  no  night  nurse 
at  the  expiration  of  the  first  month,  and  we  had  to  do 
it  ourselves.  I did  my  share  of  cradle  rocking  at  night 
until  it  occurred  to  me  that  all  that  cradle  rocking 
to  put  a healthy  baby  to  sleep  was  not  only  unneces- 
sary, but  it  was  the  beginning  of  many  other  un- 
necessary things,  and  tending  to  bring  up  a boy  wrong, 
besides  imposing  on  the  parents  much  useless  and 
sometimes  unhealthy  work.  I figured  out  that  if  a 
young  animal  like  a puppy,  or  a kitten  could  be 
taught  all  sorts  of  things,  our  child  could  learn  just 
as  easily  and  quickly,  and  I determined  to  give  that 
matter  of  early  training  a fair  test  before  consenting 
to  have  my  night’s  rest  and  my  wife’s  rest  at  night  ever 
afterward  at  the  mercy  of  an  unthinking  baby. 

So,  after  assisting  for  about  a week  in  rocking  the 
month  old  infant  Carey  to  sleep  at  night,  I succeeded 
after  a great  deal  of  protest  and  objection  from  my 
wife  in  persuading  her  not  to  rock  the  child  to  sleep 
at  all,  but  instead,  at  the  regular  sleep  time  at  night 
to  merely  put  the  boy  in  his  bed,  blow  out  the  lights 
and  leave  the  room,  all  this  after  making  sure  that 
no  pins  were  sticking  in  the  child.  My  wife  “just 
knew  that  her  child  would  cry  himself  to  death.’’  and 
she  thought  me  very  hard  hearted,  but  she  was  not 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


195 


willing  to  admit  that  her  child  could  not  be  trained 
as  easily  as  a puppy  could.  But,  to  her  surprise  and 
somewhat  to  mine  too,  the  baby  cried  for  only  half  an 
hour  the  first  night  of  no  rocking,  during  which  time 
I simply  had  to  keep  my  wife  away  and  out  of  sight. 

The  second  night  the  infant  cried  not  more  than 
half  as  long  as  he  did  the  first  night,  very  little  the 
third  night  and  none  at  all  the  fourth  night,  and  after 
that  none  at  all  when  put  to  bed.  That  saved  us  lots 
of  trouble,  and  gained  me  much  reputation  as  a baby 
trainer.  I did  not  fail  to  repeat  that  training  when 
number  two  came  along. 

But,  the  baby’s  mother  spoiled  him  by  feeding  him 
practically  as  often  as  the  little  imp  would  wake  up 
and  cry  for  it,  and  that  again  called  for  training,  so  as 
to  insure  us  a good  night’s  rest.  So,  after  about  three 
months  I got  tired  of  having  my  first  born  get  his 
mother  up  at  just  any  old  time  of  the  night.  I noticed 
how  he  did  it,  and  I could  easily  see  that  he  merely 
waked  up  and  wanted  his  mother  awake  too.  We  had 
had  our  night’s  rest  spoiled  a great  many  times, 
needlessly  too,  and  I determined  to  train  my  boy 
again.  So,  after  unsuccessfully  endeavoring  many 
times  to  persuade  the  mother  to  pay  absolutely  no 
attention  to  the  child  when  she  knew  that  neither 
hunger  nor  pain  had  awakened  him,  I took  the  bull  by 
the  horns,  and  then  the  first  time  my  little  hopeful 
began  his  method  of  waking  his  mother  merely  because 
he  happened  to  be  awake  I spoke  to  him  several  times, 
telling  him  to  stop  his  noise  and  go  to  sleep,  and  find- 
ing that  my  voice  had  no  effect  I quickly  rose  from 
my  bed,  took  young  America  out  of  bed  with  one 
hand,  turned  him  over  with  my  left  hand  while  with 
my  right  I spanked  him  good,  several  times. 


196 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Then  I quietly  replaced  Carey  in  his  little  bed, 
mildly  and  firmly  told  him  to  be  quiet  and  go  to  sleep, 
and  then  I went  back  to  bed,  myself.  Another 
splendid  piece  of  baby  training!  After  a few  sniffles 
the  tiny  little  baby  went  off  to  sleep,  and  henceforth 
he  needed  no  more  than  a word  or  two  from  me  to 
make  him  change  his  mind  about  waking  his  mother. 
Though  only  three  months  old  the  baby  knew  very 
well  the  meaning  of  what  I said  to  him,  also  why  I 
whipped  him,  just  as  I believed  he  would.  Although 
my  wife  called  me  all  sorts  of  a brute  when  I spanked 
her  infant,  she  soon  gave  me  great  credit  for  success 
in  baby  training. 

I have  tried  to  stiffen  the  backbones  of  other 
fathers  on  that  same  subject,  and  to  persuade  them 
that  they  too  had  some  rights  in  their  own  houses, 
and  in  the  bringing  up  of  their  own  children,  but  I 
can’t  claim  any  great  success  in  my  efforts.  But,  I 
am  sure  that  there  would  be  much  more  contentment 
and  even  happiness  in  hundreds  of  our  American 
homes  if  the  father  would  assert  himself  as  I did,  on 
the  occasions  described. 

After  the  midnight  experience  just  described  we 
merely  put  the  child  to  bed,  carefully  saw  to  it  that 
no  pins  could  possibly  annoy  the  baby,  and  then  we 
left  him  alone  for  hours  at  a time,  all  with  the  best  of 
results. 

When  the  average  baby  is  about  six  months  old  the 
mother’s  milk  is  no  longer  sufficient  nourishment  for 
him,  or  her.  Then  we  see  the  average  American 
mother  turn  up  her  nose  at  the  idea  of  using  the  next 
best  food  for  babies,  Gail  Borden’s  condensed  milk, 
and  they  hunt  for  all  sorts  of  costly  substitutes,  being 
ashamed  to  use  anything  so  cheap  as  condensed  milk. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


197 


We  did  that,  too,  and  with  Number  One;  the  ex- 
pensive substitute  was  satisfactory,  except  as  to  price. 
But,  with  Number  Two,  Mitchell,  we  could  find  no 
high  priced  food  for  children  that  came  near  filling 
the  requirements,  and  after  inquiring  of  many  mothers 
we  finally  learned  about  Gail  Borden’s  great  gift  to 
mothers,  but  our  lady  informant  begged  that  her 
information  be  kept  a secret  from  all  the  other 
mothers  there,  as  she  was  ashamed  to  have  them 
know  that  she  had  used  condensed  milk  on  her  little 
darlings. 

Thousands  of  American  mothers  will  insist  that, 
“Oh,  my  baby  just  can’t  take  condensed  milk,  it 
doesn’t  agree  with  him,  ” all  without  having  ever  tried 
it  on  her  child.  The  American  woman  can’t  endure 
the  idea  of  not  getting  the  very  best,  and,  as  with 
articles  to  wear,  she  considers  the  most  expensive 
article  of  baby  food  to  be  the  best. 

In  1891  an  insurance  agent  of  the  Penn  Mutual 
Company  came  to  Fort  Bayard,  and  I had  no  diffi- 
culty in  getting  a 15  year  endowment  policy  in  it,  and 
then  I immediately  took  out  another  policy  in  our 
Army  Mutual  Aid  Association,  the  same  physician, 
our  post  surgeon,  examining  me  for  both  companies. 
My  mountain  climbing  was  evidently  improving  my 
general  health  and  physical  condition. 

While  I was  adjutant,  Capt.  Markley  of  the  24th 
Infantry  came  to  serve  at  our  post.  I was  glad  to 
serve  with  him  again,  and  the  Captain  also  appeared 
to  enjoy  his  service  at  Fort  Bayard. 

During  the  early  ’90’s  Captain  , — th 

Cavalry,  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  witty 
officers  at  Fort  Bayard.  He  knew  a cavalry  troop 
from  “a  to  izzard,”  and  at  the  same  time  he  had  a 


198 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


quaint  humor  that  made  him  a very  agreeable  com- 
panion. 

One  morning,  while  I was  adjutant,  on  arriving  at 

the  office  I found  a letter  from  Capt.  , 

which,  if  carried  to  its  natural  conclusion  through 
official  channels,  would  have  made  trouble  for  him. 
The  circumstances  were  such  that  I felt  justified  in 
not  presenting  that  letter  to  the  post  commander, 
along  with  other  papers.  After  waiting  all  day  to  see 
the  Captain  I went  to  his  quarters  late  in  the  afternoon. 

When  I knocked  at  the  door  Mrs.  — opened 

it.  I asked  for  the  Captain,  and  she  wanted  to  know 
if  she  would  not  do.  I knew  her  good  sense  and  I 
answered,  “Yes,”  and  then  I added,  “Will  you  please 
tell  the  Captain  that  the  letter  which  he  sent  in  this 
morning  is  not  properly  written,  and  that  the  Adju- 
tant says  that,  if  it  must  go  in,  it  should  be  changed 
very  much.”  I gave  her  the  letter  alluded  to,  and, 

looking  very  grateful  Mrs.  said  that  she 

would  attend  to  it,  and  I am  sure  that  she  did,  for  I 
heard  no  more  of  it,  and  I was  glad  to  have  the  matter 
settled  in  that  manner. 

Once,  while  I was  Regimental  Adjutant,  I had  to 
witness  the  payment  of  Company  “F,  ” 24th  Infantry, 
some  time  in  the  latter  part  of  1891,  or  early  in  1892, 
and  this  incident  made  me  acquainted  with  the  best 
colored  soldier  that  ever  served  under  my  command. 
It  happened  in  this  manner. 

In  those  days  we  gave  great  attention  to  all  kinds  of 
signalling  and  to  telegraphy,  and  the  garrison  at  Fort 
Bayard  maintained  the  telegraph  line  to  Silver  City, 
and  kept  a small  office  in  a tent  near  the  W estern 
Union  office,  in  this  way  relaying  our  messages. 

On  the  date  in  question  both  soldiers  who  were  on 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


199 


duty  at  the  tent  happened  to  belong  to  Company 
“F,  ” one  as  operator  and  the  other  as  messenger. 
The  operator  was  named  Dickerson,  and  the  messenger 
was  named  Beckam,  and  the  former  was  present  at 
the  payment,  leaving  the  messenger  at  Silver  City. 
The  two  men  alternated  in  going  in  to  Fort  Bayard 
to  be  present  at  payment,  and  the  payments  were  two 
months  apart.  At  the  next  payment  there  was  some 
difficulty  in  ascertaining  from  the  records  of  Company 
“F”  the  date  of  the  last  payment  of  Private  Dicker- 
son,  and  Capt.  Hood  wanted  to  know  from  me  if 
Dickerson  had  been  present  at  the  last  payment. 
He  sent  to  get  this  information  from  me  the  messenger 
from  the  tent  in  Silver  City,  John  T.  Beckam,  then  a 
private.  Nothing  had  happened  to  impress  the  pay- 
ment of  Dickerson  on  my  mind,  and  so  I told  Beckam 
that  I didn’t  know. 

I had  never  before  looked  at  the  man,  but  now  I 
took  a good  look  at  him  when  he  suggested,  “I’ll  find 
out,  if  you  say  so.” 

As  I looked  at  him  I saw  that  he  had  a plan  which  he 
considered  a good  one,  so  I told  him  that  I would  like 
very  much  for  him  to  get  the  information  for  me.  He 
looked  pleased  at  the  thought  of  working  his  scheme 
on  Dickerson,  and  my  curiosity  was  excited  a little. 
I asked  Beckam  how  he  would  find  out  if  Dickerson 
had  been  paid  on  last  pay  day,  and  when  he  hesitated 
I repeated  my  request.  With  that  same  queer  look 
on  his  face  he  replied,  “I’ll  telegraph  to  Dickerson 
and  find  out  from  him.” 

I asked  Beckam  how  he  had  learned  to  telegraph, 
and  was  told  that  he  had  been  whiling  away  his  time, 
his  idle  hours,  in  playing  with  the  machine,  and  that 
he  knew  enough  to  make  Dickerson  understand  him. 


200 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I then  told  him  to  go  out  and  get  the  information  as 
quickly  as  he  could,  and  I had  not  long  to  wait  before 
Beckam  returned  with  a greatly  pleased  expression 
on  his  face  as  he  reported,  “Dickerson  says,  ‘Yes, 
Sir.’  ” I insisted  on  knowing  the  exact  words  of  his 
message  to  the  other  man,  and  here  they  are:  “The 
Adjutant  wants  to  know  how  much  he  paid  you  at 
last  payment.” 

That  was  a smart  message.  We  had  no  proof  at 
all  that  Dickerson  had  been  paid  at  last  payment, 
and  we  were  afraid  to  have  him  know  of  our  ignorance, 
thinking  it  possible  that  the  man  might  deny  the 
payment,  and  Beckam  knew  the  danger  of  allowing 
the  other  man  to  know  that,  therefore  he  assumed  the 
fact  of  payment  in  his  message  to  Dickerson  by  asking 
him  how  much  he  had  been  paid  and  by  giving  it  as  a 
message  direct  from  the  Adjutant. 

The  exact  words  of  Dickerson  in  replying  to 
Beckam’s  question  had  been,  “Twenty -five,  seventy- 
five.”  The  monthly  pay  of  a soldier  in  those  days  was 
$13  for  a private,  twenty-five  cents  having  been  de- 
ducted for  the  Soldiers’  Home  at  Washington,  D.  C. 
I believe  that  deduction  of  twelve  and  a half  cents 
each  month  has  been  stopped.  I thanked  Beckam 
very  warmly,  and  I never  forgot  that  incident  and  the 
knowledge  of  human  nature  shown  by  Beckam. 
Although  nearly  five  years  in  the  service  he  was  still  a 
private. 

When  I was  promoted  on  July  2,  1892,  to  succeed 
Capt.  Hood  in  the  command  of  Company  “F”  I 
found  Beckam  still  a private  and  on  furlough,  near 
the  end  of  his  enlistment.  The  1st  Sergeant  told  me 
that  Beckam  intended  to  go  to  the  25th  Infantry, 
then  in  Montana.  A vacancy  occurred  among  my 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


201 


corporals  while  he  was  away,  and  I wished  so  much  to 
retain  Beckam  in  my  company  that  I appointed  him 
corporal  in  the  hope  that  it  would  keep  him  with  me. 

But  when  his  time  was  up  he  tried  to  get  authority 
to  be  enlisted  for  the  25th  Infantry.  The  War  Depart- 
ment declined,  because  of  the  distance  to  Fort  Mis- 
soula, Montana.  So,  Beckam  remained  with  me,  and 
I made  his  warrant  continuous  on  reenlistment,  and 
promoted  him  sergeant  as  soon  as  a vacancy  occurred 
among  the  sergeants  of  the  company.  I made  him 
attend  non-commissioned  officers’  school,  and  drill 
recruits  and  assist  the  company  clerk,  and  do  every 
kind  of  military  duty  that  I could  find  for  him.  I 
found  him  to  be  the  best  instructor  of  raw  recruits 
that  I ever  saw,  also  excellent  in  recitation.  I was 
training  him  for  the  important  duties  of  1st  Sergeant, 
and  I wanted  him  to  be  fit  for  the  place.  He  had  no 
easy  time  of  it. 

Mountain  climbing  and  running  around  after  the 
quail  of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona  did  not  require 
many  weeks’  service  at  Fort  Bayard  to  convince  me 
that  my  physical  condition  was  not  good  enough  for 
that  sort  of  work,  and  that  drove  me  to  think  up  some 
muscle  making  exercises.  I began  by  taking  several 
of  our  drill  book  setting  up  exercises,  and  then  I 
improvised  half  a dozen  for  myself,  and  from  that 
date  to  the  present  time  I have  practiced  these 
exercises  daily  before  breakfast,  adding  a new  exercise 
now  and  then,  and  I have  found  them  to  be  of  in- 
calculable benefit  to  my  health  and  strength. 

My  leg  exercises  simulated  mountain  climbing, 
one  step  at  a time,  and  alternating  the  legs  in  the 
movement,  all  without  moving  out  of  my  tracks. 
From  a standing  position,  feet  together,  I would 


202 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


begin  by  kneeling  on  one  knee,  putting  that  knee  on 
the  floor,  and  sitting  down  on  the  heel  of  that  same 
foot,  then  rise  and  put  that  foot  beside  the  other,  and 
similarly  kneel  on  the  other  knee  and  continue,  alter- 
nating in  kneeling.  By  alternating  knees  and  kneeling 
25  or  30  times  on  each  knee  I obtained  a fine  muscle 
making  exercise  for  the  legs  which  has  ever  since  then 
kept  my  legs  in  good  condition  for  marching  and 
hunting.  I have  seen  no  description  of  indoor  exercises 
which  I consider  half  as  good  as  mine.  My  other 
exercises  were  for  the  arms  and  trunk  of  body,  arm 
swinging,  body  bending  and  breathing  exercises,  all 
excellent  and  natural  movements.  Ten  minutes  of 
these  exercises  taken  before  breakfast,  while  waiting 
for  the  bath  tub  to  slowly  fill  up,  will  work  wonders 
for  any  one. 

Of  course  in  my  hunts  in  the  mountains  I was 
always  on  the  lookout  for  bears,  and  twice  I had 
excellent  opportunities  and  failed,  and  then  I had  the 
chagrin  to  have  a youngster,  2nd  Lieut.  H.  J.  Price, 
24th  Infantry,  kill  a bear  on  his  first  trip  into  the 
mountains  with  me  from  our  twenty  days’  field  service 
and  camp  on  the  Sapillo  Creek,  about  25  miles  from 
the  post.  However,  Price  deserved  all  his  good  luck. 

On  another  occasion,  one  October  morning  when 
in  those  same  mountains  with  Lieuts.  Price  and  Glas- 
gow, I was  alone,  and  sat  down  near  the  edge  of  an 
immense  canyon  to  look  and  listen.  I was  a little 
lower  than  the  general  level  (mesa)  behind  me,  and  I 
was  looking  especially  for  bear  in  a place  which  seemed 
very  fine  for  that  animal.  It  was  cold  and  damp,  and 
I had  on  thick  buckskin  gloves,  and  I found  them 
none  too  warm.  Soon  I heard  behind  me  on  the  mesa 
the  running  of  cattle,  and  walking  back  to  where  I 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


203 


could  see  them  and  the  cause  of  their  running  I saw 
an  immense  silver  tip,  “Old  Eph”  himself,  not  more 
than  50  yards  away,  moving  about  under  a juniper 
tree.  I dropped  instantly  out  of  sight,  pulled  off  my 
right  hand  glove  and  got  another  cartridge  out  of  my 
pocket.  I did  this  quicker  than  I am  telling  of  it,  and 
then  I quickly  straightened  up  and  looked  for  Ephraim 
the  big  bear. 

Too  late,  for  Old  Eph  was  running  off  very  fast,  and 
was  much  farther  from  me.  Of  course  I fired,  but  I 
could  not  have  hit  a house  from  the  inside  then. 
While  pulling  off  my  glove  so  as  to  be  able  to  pull  the 
trigger  better  I saw  that  bear  dead  (in  my  mind’s  eye) 
I stood  gloating  over  him,  exulting  in  my  good  shoot- 
ing, I took  his  hide  home  and  showed  it  to  my  wife, 
and  then  I sent  it  to  Leonhard  Roos  and  Co.  of  St. 
Louis.  I even  had  (in  my  imagination)  the  beautifully 
mounted  pelt  on  the  floor  in  our  best  room.  All  during 
the  half  an  instant!  and  then  to  look  up  and  see  my 
silver  tip  hide  escaping  from  me!  it  so  took  the  heart 
from  me  that  I had  worse  than  “buck  ague.” 

Another  time,  when  out  hunting  with  Capt.  Hood 
and  a big  party  on  the  upper  Gila  Rivers,  I was  again 
sitting  down,  late  in  the  afternoon,  in  a beautiful 
spot,  again  looking  and  listening.  I was  where  two 
steep  and  narrow  valleys  came  together,  and  the  head 
of  one  of  them  was  only  about  150  yards  distant. 
Everything  seemed  very  quiet.  Suddenly  I distinctly 
heard  the  cracking  of  limbs  being  broken  by  something 
or  somebody,  and,  looking  hard,  I saw  a big  black 
bear  on  his  haunches,  or  hind  feet,  head  up  among  the 
lower  limbs  of  a small  cedar  tree,  apparently  eating 
the  berries,  and  breaking  the  limbs  by  pulling  them 
down  with  his  paws.  I could  not  see  his  outlines,  and 


204 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I wanted  to  be  so  sure,  after  such  previous  bad  luck! 
So,  I slid  down  the  slope  of  the  hillside  where  I was 
sitting,  crossed  the  narrow  valley,  climbed  the  far 
side  and  could  still  hear  the  limbs  breaking  about  75 
yards  away.  I crawled  fast  for  a few  yards  on  hands 
and  knees,  and  then  failing  to  hear  any  more  limb 
cracking  I rose  and  ran  toward  the  cedar  tree.  No 
bear  was  there,  but  on  looking  all  around  I saw  him 
disappear  over  the  edge  of  another  hill,  and  I ran 
there  to  get  a shot.  The  mountain  side  there  was  very 
steep,  and  the  valley  was  very  broad,  and  when  my 
bear  appeared  again  he  was  distant  300  or  400  yards. 
I sat  down  and  fired  a number  of  shots  at  him,  but  my 
hits  raised  no  dust  on  the  hillside,  nor  did  I get  any 
other  indication  as  to  where  my  bullets  went,  there- 
fore my  shooting  was  very  poor.  My  luck  and  my 
judgment  seemed  about  equal  in  poor  quality. 

In  1893  I had  general  court  martial  duty  at  Old 
Fort  Stanton,  N.  M.,  and  Fort  Bowie,  Arizona.  In 
the  first  instance  Lieutenants  Seyburn  and  Jenks,  24th 
Infantry,  accompanied  me,  and  Captain  Markley 
was  with  me  on  the  other  trip.  At  Stanton  I saw 
Bogardus  Eldridge,  Wilhelm  and  Bullard,  all  of  the 
10th  Infantry  and  excellent  officers.  The  first  two 
were  afterwards  killed  in  the  Philippines,  and  Bullard 
lived  to  win  much  fame  in  France,  in  the  Great  World 
War.  One  day,  near  Stanton,  Bullard  and  I went  to 
investigate  a cave.  We  walked  in  a few  yards,  we 
crawled  in  about  100  yards  more,  and  still  went  on. 
We  couldn’t  see  ten  feet  ahead  of  us,  and  we  knew 
that  we  were  in  rattlesnake  paradise.  I don’t  know 
how  far  we  were  from  the  mouth  of  that  cave  when  it 
occurred  to  us  that  it  was  high  time  for  us  to  get  out 
of  there.  So,  we  turned  back  and  I believe  that  we 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


205 


made  better  time  going  that  way,  in  spite  of  our 
having  no  light.  We  were  lucky  to  get  out  of  that 
adventure  without  any  bad  luck.  There  was  quite  a 
pool  of  water  in  that  cave,  near  the  entrance,  but  we 
got  started  off  on  the  wrong  fork. 

In  the  spring  of  1894  I was  ordered  to  Fort  Logan, 
Colorado,  to  sit  as  a member  of  an  examining  board, 
with  Major  C.  C.  Hood,  7th  Inf.,  and  my  classmate 
0.  J.  Brown,  1st  Cav.,  as  the  other  members.  There  I 
saw  Col.  H.  C.  Merriam  and  his  infantry  pack,  and 
of  course  the  pack  was  put  on  me.  No  one  escaped 
Col.  Merriam  and  his  pack.  But,  really,  it  was  the 
best  pack  of  that  kind  that  I ever  saw. 

I saw  also  my  classmate  Gatewood  in  Denver, 
where  he  lived  after  retirement  for  injury  received  in 
putting  out  a fire  somewhere.  This  time  I got  from 
him  the  story  of  Geronimo’s  surrender.  I tried  to  get 
him  to  publish  a description  of  how  he  twice  visited 
Geronimo’s  camp  and  induced  him  to  come  in.  Ger- 
onimo  and  his  hostile  Chiricahua  Apaches  had  been 
for  many  months  the  terror  and  scourge  of  Arizona 
and  northern  Mexico,  and  when  Gatewood  went  in 
to  their  camp  they  were  in  the  mountains  of  Sonora, 
Mexico,  with  Capt.  H.  W.  Lawton  and  his  troop  of 
the  4th  Cav.  a few  miles  away.  I told  Gatewood 
that  his  classmates  were  very  proud  of  what  he  had 
done,  and  that  in  justice  to  us  and  to  himself  he  ought 
to  leave  a record  of  his  achievement.  He  promised  to 
do  so,  but  at  the  date  of  his  death  it  had  not  been 
published. 

In  July,  1894,  the  battalion  of  the  24th  Infantry 
stationed  at  Fort  Bayard  was  ordered  to  Trinidad, 
Colorado,  on  strike  duty,  and  our  officers  were  much 
disturbed  over  their  prospective  duties  and  the 


206 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


possible  results  thereof.  At  that  time  we  had  no 
protection  from  the  action  of  every  civil  officer  who 
might  choose  to  arrest  us  while  on  such  duty,  and  I 
was  several  times  asked,  “Will  you  have  your  men 
fire  on  the  strikers?  You  will  get  into  trouble  if  you 
do.”  My  invariable  answer  was  that  I was  going  to 
carry  out  my  orders,  and  that  it  behooved  the  other 
fellow  to  look  out,  and  keep  out  of  trouble. 

President  Grover  Cleveland’s  order  regulating  and 
describing  the  duties  of  the  Army,  when  called  out  by 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  was  dated,  I believe 
July  9,  1894,  the  day  we  started  from  Bayard,  and 
since  the  publication  of  his  order,  now  embodied  in 
our  Army  Regulations,  we  have  had  no  trouble  with 
strikers  which  resulted  in  the  shedding  of  any  blood. 
The  actual  appearance  of  regulars  has  been  sufficient. 
Grover  Cleveland  was  one  of  our  best  presidents,  and 
the  Army  has  had  no  better  friend  in  the  White  House. 
Since  then  I have  always  described  myself  as  a Cleve- 
land Democrat. 

When  we  started  for  Trinidad  I was  fast  getting 
stiff  from  rheumatism,  and  it  rained  for  hours  on  us  at 
the  little  depot  of  Hall’s  Station  before  the  train 
started,  and  I felt  my  joints  getting  bigger  and  stiffer, 
and  after  about  an  hour’s  travel  my  colonel,  big,  kind 
hearted  Zenas  R.  Bliss,  stopped  at  my  seat  and  said, 
“You  have  no  business  with  us.  You  ought  to  be  at 
home.”  I requested  him  to  please  allow  me  to  go  on 
to  Trinidad  and  see  if  there  was  to  be  any  fighting, 
any  chance  for  making  vacancies  in  the  regiment, 
explaining  that  I wanted  to  give  the  young  lieutenants 
the  benefit  of  a possible  chance  on  me  in  case  of  any 
fighting  at  Trinidad,  and  I promised  to  go  back  to 
Bayard  just  as  soon  as  the  fighting  should  be  over. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


207 


He  said,  “All  right,  but  you  ought  to  be  at  home 
now.” 

I was  in  Trinidad  only  two  days  when  I could  see 
that  there  was  to  be  no  fighting,  and  my  rheumatism 
simply  compelled  me  to  waste  no  more  time  there, 
so  I started  for  Bayard,  taking  my  soldier  orderly  to 
care  for  me  on  the  road.  I found  a doctor  on  the  train 
who  gave  me  some  medicine  to  ease  my  pain,  and  I 
needed  it.  On  the  way  back  to  Deming,  N.  M.,  we 
heard  that  the  strikers  had  fixed  a railroad  switch 
there  for  us  as  we  went  north,  intending  to  run  our 
train  off  the  track,  but  that  one  kind  hearted  and 
conscientious  striker  wouldn’t  stand  for  that  sort  of 
murder,  and  he  therefore  repaired  the  track  just  before 
the  arrival  of  our  train,  which  had  been  delayed 
several  hours  by  the  hard  rain  previously  mentioned. 
I also  saw,  en  route  returning,  the  smoking  remains 
of  a small  railroad  bridge  in  the  mountains.  This 
bridge  had  been  burned  by  the  strikers. 

After  being  confined  to  my  bed  for  more  than  a 
month  I went  to  the  big  Army  and  Navy  Hospital  at 
Hot  Springs,  Arkansas,  for  treatment,  and  there  I 
remained  for  two  months.  In  addition  to  the  excellent 
system  of  hot  baths,  sweats,  hot  water  drinking  and 
gymnastic  facilities  put  in  use  at  the  hospital,  I was 
massaged  daily  by  an  expert,  a Swede  who  had  been  a 
sergeant  major  in  the  Swedish  army.  This  man  was 
wonderfully  developed  in  his  hands  and  arms,  and  he 
made  good  use  of  his  strength  in  giving  me  various 
forms  of  massage.  When  I had  observed  for  several 
weeks  all  his  different  movements,  and  had  noticed 
their  results,  I found  that  I had  the  following  ideas 
regarding  rheumatism  and  its  causes. 

Whether  caused  by  malic  or  by  uric  acid,  or  by 


208 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


other  poison  in  the  blood,  whatever  does  the  damage  is 
in  the  blood  all  the  time,  perhaps  in  varying  quantity, 
or  strength,  and,  like  small  drift  wood  in  a swollen 
creek,  is  continually  passing  down  the  stream,  keeping 
in  the  middle  of  the  current  where  the  stream  is 
straight,  and  sometimes  landing  against  the  bank 
and  accumulating  at  sharp  curves  and  bends  of  the 
creek,  especially  where  the  water  loses  in  depth  and 
strength.  Gradually  there  is  then  caused  in  the  creek 
a drift  pile,  which  may  even  reach  across  the  stream, 
and  may  even  cause  a dam,  and  unless  the  dam  is 
broken  up  and  scattered,  and  the  channel  cleared  of 
obstruction,  there  will  result  an  overflow,  and  perhaps 
a change  of  channel. 

Similarly,  the  minute  particles  of  rheumatic  poison 
move  along  in  the  veins,  making  no  trouble  so  long 
as  there  is  no  narrowing  of  the  channel,  nor  lessening 
of  the  depth,  but  let  there  come  either,  caused  by  the 
particles  impinging  against  a crooked  bank,  or  by 
slow  running  of  the  water  at  any  place,  and  there  will 
be  a gradually  collected  dam  in  the  veins,  and  more 
and  more  difficulty  in  passing  the  blood  along.  Soon 
there  will  be  swelling,  the  blood  not  being  able  to 
pursue  its  natural  course,  and  the  current  being  now 
slower  the  poison  accumulates  faster,  and  then  some- 
body has  rheumatism. 

The  use  of  massage  in  the  treatment  of  rheumatism 
resembles  the  breaking  up  of  the  drift  wood  dam  in  the 
creek,  and  this  is  accomplished  by  the  continual  work- 
ing of  the  muscles,  joints,  tendons  and  every  part  of 
the  system  which  can  be  moved,  thus  shaking  off 
loose  particles  of  poison  and  starting  them  down  the 
stream  which  is  kept  free  and  clear  by  the  same  treat- 
ment. These  ideas  are  my  own,  but  there  seems  to  be 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


209 


proof,  or  corroboration  in  the  successful  practice  of 
massage  and  of  lots  of  daily  exercise. 

Sometime  in  1895  something  happened  which  gave 
me  quite  a respect  for  some  of  the  methods  of  the  civil 
authorities  in  handling  cases.  William  Cain,  my 
company  clerk,  was  discharged,  and  his  papers  were 
made  out  by  himself  and  then  examined  by  me. 

I noticed  the  large  amounts  recorded  as  deposits, 
and  I carefully  verified  them  from  the  old  Descriptive 
Book,  without  suspicion  but  with  some  surprise  at  the 
large  amounts. 

I called  Cain’s  attention  to  these  big  deposits,  and 
he  satisfied  my  curiosity.  After  his  discharge  Cain 
went  to  Los  Angeles,  California,  and  started  a barber 
shop,  and  he  was  so  indiscreet  as  to  send  back  to  the 
company  some  specimens  of  his  business  card,  and  one 
of  these  cards  was,  naturally,  shown  to  me. 

In  two  or  three  months  I received  from  the  Pay- 
master General  of  the  Army  an  invitation  to  explain 
certain  discrepancies  between  the  amounts  of  Cain’s 
deposits  as  reported  by  the  paymaster,  and  those 
shown  on  the  final  statements  of  the  soldier  and 
cashed  by  him  on  discharge.  I immediately  inspected 
very  carefully  the  records  in  the  Descriptive  and 
Letters  Sent  Books,  and  turning  to  the  glancing  sun- 
light the  record  shown  in  the  Descriptive  Book  I saw 
evidences  of  erasure  and  alteration  which  Cain  had 
forgotten  to  copy,  or  repeat,  in  the  recorded  letter 
sent  to  the  Paymaster  General  announcing  the 
deposits. 

I immediately  wrote  requesting  the  Department 
Commander  to  have  Cain  arrested,  forwarding  the 
business  card  of  Cain  as  proof  of  his  whereabouts,  and 
I was  ordered  to  Los  Angeles,  Cal.,  to  be  examined  by 


210 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  United  States  Commissioner  there.  Not  long 
after  that  I was  summoned  to  appear  before  the 
United  States  Grand  Jury  at  Silver  City,  N.  M.  I 
spent  all  day  before  that  grand  jury,  and  late  in  the 
day  I got  from  the  mail  there,  which  was  en  route  to 
Fort  Bayard,  the  letter  from  the  Paymaster  General 
containing  the  original  reports  of  deposit  showing  the 
real  amounts  deposited,  and  after  comparing  the 
forgeries  with  the  correct  records  the  Grand  Jury 
informed  me  that  they  had  found  an  indictment.  I 
remained  an  hour  or  two  longer  to  assist  the  U.  S. 
District  Attorney  in  preparing  his  paper,  and  I was 
told  by  him  that  the  case  would  be  tried  the  next  day 
beginning  at  9 o’clock  a.m.  I testified  on  the  following 
day  as  requested,  the  trial  was  completed  that  same 
day,  and  early  in  the  morning  after  the  trial  Cain 
was  put  on  the  train  for  the  penitentiary,  to  serve  his 
sentence.  I call  that  real  justice,  sure  and  swift  as  it 
should  be. 

On  April  19,  1895,  the  Assistant  Surgeon,  Harry  M. 
Hallock  and  I,  accompanied  by  our  wives,  went  over 
the  mountain  road  to  Hill’s  Hot  Springs  on  the  Gila 
River,  about  three  miles  below  the  coming  together 
of  the  Middle  and  East  Gila  Rivers.  I went  to  stay 
two  months  to  complete  the  cure  of  my  rheumatism 
by  bathing  in  the  hot  springs,  and  Hallock  went  for 
one  month’s  outing.  We  travelled  in  a Daugherty 
wagon,  and  had  an  escort  wagon  to  carry  our  baggage, 
also  my  horse.  I took  along  with  us  a fine  soldier  field 
cook,  plenty  to  eat,  also  the  necessary  tentage  and 
cooking  utensils,  also  20  pounds  of  Lowney’s  chocolate 
which  was  at  that  time  sold  in  our  commissary  at 
19  cents  per  pound.  I got  our  good  cook  by  persuad- 
ing the  best  cook  in  the  company  to  take  a furlough 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


211 


for  the  necessary  time.  Of  course  I paid  him  for  the 
work  he  did  for  me. 

We  camped  inside  of  Mr.  Hill’s  big  yard.  He  was 
an  old  friend  of  mine,  and  a good  hunter.  I had  been 
with  him  hunting  several  times.  When,  on  this 
occasion,  I asked  him  about  game  and  its  whereabouts, 
he  replied,  “Well,  you  know  I am  a game  warden 
now,  so  you  must  take  care  not  to  let  me  see  any  of  the 
deer  you  kill,  ” and  then  he  informed  me  as  to  the  best 
hunting  grounds.  I was  sorry  I could  not  share  with 
him  my  venison,  but  I did  not  tempt  him. 

By  that  time  I knew  enough  about  hunting  to  avoid 
going  straight  towards  any  game  that  could  see  me, 
but  instead  to  go  obliquely  in  that  direction,  looking 
at  the  game  out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye  and  keeping 
my  gun  out  of  sight,  gradually  getting  closer  and 
closer  till  near  enough  to  shoot,  and  I practiced  that 
method  on  lots  of  game,  even  on  the  openest  sort  of 
ground. 

My  rheumatism  had  not  entirely  left  me,  so  I 
bathed  almost  daily  in  the  water  of  Hill’s  Hot  Springs, 
then  I would  mount  my  horse  and  ride  many  miles 
into  the  mountains  alone.  Till  then  I had  not  killed 
a bear,  and  because  of  having  done  so  much  poor 
hunting  in  those  very  mountains  I was  doubly  anxious 
to  kill  one,  and  had  become  somewhat  sensitive  on 
the  subject,  no  longer  feeling  any  great  hopes  of 
killing  one. 

One  day,  after  being  there  several  weeks,  I rode 
ten  or  twelve  miles  up  the  river,  then  a mile  or  two 
away  from  the  river,  dismounted  and  followed  some 
fresh  bear  tracks  along  the  side  of  a steep  and  very 
deep  canyon  which  had  many  tall  pine  trees  scattered 
over  the  slopes  of  both  sides. 


212 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Soon  after  leaving  the  river  I had  seen  the  freshly 
killed  body  of  a three  year  old  cow  which  had  its 
throat  neatly  cut  by  a panther,  and  I was  very  much 
on  the  lookout. 

The  panther  had  left  no  tracks,  but  now  I had  some 
plain  bear  tracks  to  follow,  and  I looked  hard  for  the 
big  bear  that  had  made  the  tracks.  At  length  I saw 
what  appeared  to  be  a two  year  old  calf,  brown  in 
color  and  lying  down  in  the  sunshine.  I looked  hard 
at  the  animal,  which  seemed  to  be  alone,  and  I finally 
said  to  myself,  “Well,  you  may  be  a bear,  and  if  you 
are  not  one  you  are  out  of  luck.” 

I then  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  a small  scrub  oak 
tree  and  examined  the  sights  of  my  rifle,  got  out  an 
extra  cartridge  and  settled  down  to  take  good  aim, 
when,  looking  up  I noticed  that  my  animal  had 
moved:  it  was  really  a bear  and  was  standing  behind  a 
big  pine  tree,  looking  at  me  from  the  left  side  of  the 
tree,  part  of  its  body  being  visible  on  the  right  side  of 
the  tree,  his  rump  being  nearest  to  me  and  not  show- 
ing enough  to  shoot  at.  I quickly  took  good  aim  at 
the  point  in  space  where  his  heart  should  be  as  soon 
as  he  should  move  from  behind  the  tree,  and  then  I 
waited  for  him  to  move,  resting  my  elbows  on  my 
knees,  and  as  steady  as  a rock.  There  was  no  excite- 
ment this  time. 

I had  not  long  to  wait,  for  a sudden  movement  of 
the  animal  put  him  where  I could  take  good  aim  with- 
out hitting  the  tree,  and  I fired.  At  the  report  of  my 
rifle  another  bear,  a smaller  and  lighter  colored  one, 
ran  fast  up  the  mountain  side,  and  my  bear  ran  along 
the  side  of  the  canyon,  making  a terrible  noise  which 
resembled  a combination  of  a bellow  in  pain  and  a roar 
of  rage. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


213 


I ran  along  my  side  of  the  canyon,  trying  to  keep 
in  sight  of  my  wounded  bear,  which  soon  stopped  in  a 
thicket  of  small  oak  bushes,  still  making  a noise  which 
gradually  lessened  in  volume  and  changed  in  character 
until  it  was  only  a low  moan,  and  indicated  that  he 
was  dying,  which  he  did  very  soon,  at  least  the  noise 
ceased  entirely.  I then  went  down  the  deep  and  very 
steep  hillside,  went  up  the  bed  of  the  watercourse  for 
about  100  yards,  then  climbed  up  the  mountain  side 
till  I knew  that  I was  higher  than  the  bear,  when  I 
began  to  look  for  him. 

I found  the  bear  very  dead,  his  hind  legs  holding  on 
in  some  strange  way  to  one  of  the  small  oak  bushes, 
thus  preventing  his  rolling  down  the  hill;  this  I made 
the  body  do  by  detaching  it  from  every  obstacle,  and 
doing  a little  guiding  myself.  At  the  bottom  I lost 
no  time  in  drawing  the  bear,  and  then  I tried  to  move 
him  out  of  his  blood.  I could  not  budge  the  big  animal 
an  inch,  although  I was  standing  astride  the  body, 
with  my  hands  grasping  a firm  hold  on  the  inside  of 
his  brisket,  and  I exerted  all  my  strength,  which  was 
then  considerably  above  the  average. 

The  next  morning  I went  back  there  with  Mr.  Hill 
and  another  hunter,  and  we  brought  away  the  hide. 
I got  Mr.  Hill  to  help  me  because  I wanted  a good 
pelt  to  send  to  the  house  of  Leonhard  Roos  and  Co.  of 
St.  Louis,  to  dress  and  mount  for  me.  All  this  I 
afterwards  did,  and  for  many  years  that  mounted 
grizzly  bear  skin  was  my  pet  pride.  Porto  Rico  bugs 
finally  chewed  it  up  so  that  I was  compelled  to  throw 
it  away,  to  my  great  disappointment. 

While  at  that  camp  I hunted  only  when  I needed 
meat  for  my  camp,  and  four  deer  gave  us  some  fresh 
meat  during  part  of  the  two  months  of  our  stay.  I 


214 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


was  not  always  lucky  enough  to  kill  a deer,  even  when 
hunting  from  that  fine  place.  Several  times  Dr. 
Hallock  went  part  of  the  way  with  me,  and  then  he 
would  stop  and  fish,  and  he  was  a good  fisherman. 

My  fine  soldier  cook,  John  Gant,  had  no  whiskey 
available,  and  therefore  he  gave  most  satisfactory 
service.  My  sons,  aged  4 and  1 respectively,  had  a 
beautiful  time  with  their  young  nurse,  the  wife  of  a 
soldier.  Time  hung  heaviest  on  Mrs.  Crane  and  Mrs. 
Hallock,  for  they  had  no  such  love  for  the  mountains 
as  I did.  We  had  several  rides  up  the  river,  looking 
at  the  grand  scenery,  and  investigating  several  cave, 
or  cliff  dwellings. 

One  day,  during  the  second  month,  Dr.  Hallock 
and  his  wife  having  returned  to  Fort  Bayard,  a cavalry 
detachment  of  a sergeant  and  ten  privates  rode  into 
my  camp,  and  the  sergeant  reported  for  orders.  I 
told  him  that  I knew  of  no  reason  for  his  coming,  and 
I inquired  the  newTs.  He  had  none,  so  I showed  him 
where  to  go  into  camp,  and  then  I hastened  to  read 
my  mail  which  he  had  brought  me.  I found  that  I 
had  a new  colonel,  Jacob  Ford  Kent,  and  evidently 
a very  kind  and  considerate  commanding  officer, 
because,  having  heard  that  there  were  some  Indians 
in  those  mountains  around  me,  he  sent  me  that  detach- 
ment to  protect  my  camp.  I will  not  forget  it,  es- 
pecially since  I discovered  that  such  kindness  and 
consideration  for  his  subordinates  was  the  rule  with 
Col.  Kent,  and  not  the  exception. 

While  the  cavalry  detachment  was  with  us  I took  a 
mounted  orderly  hunting  with  me,  to  quiet  the  fears  of 
my  wife.  And  the  cavalrymen  had  a small  seine  which 
they  frequently  used  in  the  river,  and  they  divided 
their  fish  with  us. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


215 


On  one  of  our  searches  for  cliff  dwellings  we  found 
one  which  must  have  covered  about  100  people.  As 
in  most  of  such  places  there  were  signs  of  fire  having 
destroyed  everything  that  would  burn. 

We  stayed  out  our  time,  having  sent  back  to  Fort 
Bayard  for  10  pounds  more  chocolate  to  help  us  along, 
and  we  returned  by  our  mountain  road,  much  bene- 
fited by  the  outing. 

Two  or  three  months  later,  early  in  October  I 
believe,  and  perhaps  including  the  latter  part  of 
September,  we  had  our  annual  practice  march.  I 
was  given  two  companies,  and  with  wagon  transporta- 
tion I was  ordered  to  take  the  good  wagon  road 
through  Silver  City  and  go  to  Cooney,  Arizona,  in  the 
Mogollon  Mountains,  there  to  meet  Capt.  W.  H.  W. 
James,  24th  Infantry,  and  the  other  two  companies, 
exchange  transportation  and  continue  on  our  respec- 
tive journeys,  which  meant  that  I would  return  to 
Bayard  by  the  road  just  travelled  by  the  other  com- 
mand. The  journey  made  by  each  command  would 
then  be  a slightly  flattened  ellipse  in  shape. 

This  was  my  old  time  comrade  James,  who  served 
with  me  at  Fort  Duncan.  I had  about  ten  days  in 
which  to  cover  100  miles  before  meeting  him,  and  I 
did  so  in  easy  marches,  toughening  my  men  for  the 
fast  march  after  our  separation.  I walked  all  the 
way,  and  after  getting  into  camp  each  day  I did  some 
hunting,  getting  at  least  one  deer  that  I remember. 
We  marched  with  flankers  and  other  protecting  parties, 
as  required  by  our  orders,  which  were  to  simulate 
war  conditions. 

After  stopping  together  one  night  on  the  beautiful 
stream  at  the  very  small  place  Cooney  I took  James’s 
pack  outfit  and  started  back  to  the  post,  using  his 


216 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


mountain  trail  and  he  taking  my  wagon  road  and 
wagons,  and  returning  via  Silver  City.  The  two 
routes  were  of  about  equal  length,  but  being  high  up 
in  the  mountains  nearly  all  the  distance  my  command 
had  superb  conditions  for  marching,  while  the  other  two 
companies  had  somewhat  warm  weather  to  march  in. 

At  that  time  the  last  100  miles  of  our  practice 
marches  had  to  be  executed  in  forced  march,  under 
simulated  war  conditions.  Our  first  day’s  march 
homeward  called  for  a great  deal  of  climbing,  limiting 
our  march  to  17  miles.  The  next  day,  with  an  early 
start,  fine  weather  and  a good  mountain  trail,  we  would 
have  made  more  than  30  miles  but  for  our  finding 
some  Navajo  Indians  close  to  our  trail. 

I believe  that  these  were  the  same  Indians  that  had 
caused  my  post  commander  to  send  that  cavalry 
detachment  to  protect  my  camp  at  Hill’s  Hot  Springs 
during  the  summer.  About  30  miles  of  very  rough 
country  separated  the  two  localities.  The  Indians 
were  located  in  a beautiful  spot  about  200  yards  from 
my  trail,  and  easily  seen  for  more  than  a mile.  I was 
leading  my  men,  on  foot  and  carrying  a rifle,  and  on 
arriving  about  200  yards  from  their  camp  I halted 
my  men,  took  with  me  a squad  of  them  and  we  com- 
pelled the  Indians  to  break  camp  and  start  for  their 
reservation  without  waiting  for  the  return  of  their 
hunting  parties  which  were  absent  at  that  time. 

After  following  them  on  my  horse  for  about  two 
miles  so  as  to  see  that  they  were  in  earnest,  I returned 
to  my  command,  and  we  continued  our  march  along 
our  mountain  trail.  On  the  fifth  day  we  made  the 
last  17  miles  into  Fort  Bayard,  halted  in  the  middle 
of  the  parade  ground,  and  then  Col.  Kent  came  out 
and  inspected  us.  We  had,  in  the  five  days,  made 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


217 


about  124  miles,  with  great  ease.  Carrying  a rifle 
all  the  time  and  walking  at  the  head  of  the  column, 
I set  the  pace  and  found  no  difficulty  in  doing  so. 

Each  day  we  marched  from  sunrise  to  sunset, 
halting  about  30  minutes  for  lunch,  and  making  very 
short  hourly  halts.  I had  only  two  officers  with  me, 
Lieut.  Tayman  and  2nd  Lieut.  Hunter  B.  Nelson. 
During  the  entire  march  Tayman  made,  from  his 
horse,  a road  sketch  and  a fine  one  it  was.  I had  left 
with  Capt.  James  a couple  of  footsore  men,  and  this 
made  my  return  march  much  easier.  James  and  his 
two  companies  arrived  on  the  fifth  night  at  Silver  City, 
and  marched  in  to  the  post  the  next  morning. 

In  my  report  of  the  march  I recommended  hence- 
forth the  use  of  clothing  and  shelter  tents  of  dead 
grass  color,  the  first  recommendation  to  that  effect 
that  I know  of.  The  great  visibility  of  my  men  at 
long  distances  had  attracted  my  attention,  and  for 
many  years  I had  been  wearing  hunting  clothing  of 
the  color  recommended,  and  I had  noticed  how  difficult 
it  was  for  game  to  see  me. 

Later  in  the  fall,  sometime  in  October,  Lieut.  Archi- 
bald Cabaniss  and  his  wife,  with  a detachment  from 
his  company,  took  a good  hunt  up  in  those  same 
mountains.  When  they  returned  they  brought  with 
them  a very  large  and  beautiful  grizzly  bear  skin, 
and  a most  interesting  story  regarding  its  capture. 

Here  is  the  account,  as  I got  it  from  the  principal 
actor  in  the  bear  hunt,  First  Sergeant  John  Logan,  a 
large,  broad  and  powerful  man,  built  more  for  strength 
than  for  speed.  I visited  Logan  in  the  post  hospital, 
and  I saw  where  the  bear  had  clawed  and  bitten  him 
during  their  life  and  death  struggle. 

According  to  Logan,  he  and  Privates  Emmet 


218 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Hawkins  and  John  Green  were  hunting  deer  and  bear, 
carrying  their  serivce  rifles,  the  Krag- Jorgenson  of  that 
date.  Hawkins  was  a very  fine  shot,  and  Green  was  a 
very  poor  one.  Logan  was  better  than  an  average 
shot.  They  found  a very  large  grizzly  bear,  shot  at 
him  many  times,  hit  him  several  times,  wounding 
him  so  as  to  greatly  reduce  his  speed,  thus  enabling 
the  men  to  gain  on  him  in  the  running. 

Although  the  heaviest  and  naturally  the  slowest 
man  in  the  party  in  an  ordinary  foot  race,  this  ap- 
peared to  be  not  that  kind  of  a race,  and  somehow 
the  First  Sergeant  found  himself  in  the  lead  as  they 
gained  greatly  on  the  bear,  and  as  the  chase  was 
about  to  lead  up  a narrow  canyon,  a very  crooked  one, 
too.  On  making  a very  sharp  turn  Logan  saw  the 
wounded  grizzly,  only  a few  feet  from  him.  The 
bear  came  at  him,  standing  on  his  hind  feet.  Logan 
dropped  his  rifle  and  tried  to  climb  the  almost  per- 
pendicular side  of  the  canyon,  and  failing  to  retain 
his  hold  he  dropped  to  the  ground  and  could  not 
evade,  or  escape  from  the  bear,  and  they  closed  in  a 
wrestle,  man  against  bear. 

Logan  put  his  right  arm  around  the  bear’s  neck,  and 
with  his  right  hand  he  grasped  and  held  away  from 
him  the  bear’s  jaw,  the  lower  one.  He  got  in  close  to 
the  bear,  after  noticing  that  he  was  being  clawed  by 
the  animal’s  hind  feet.  After  what  seemed  hours  to 
Logan  the  other  men  turned  the  corner,  promptly 
halted  and  began  trying  for  a shot  at  the  bear.  Logan 
remembered  that  Green  was  a poor  shot,  and  he  feared 
than  Green’s  poor  marksmanship  would  be  worse  for 
him  than  for  the  bear,  so  he  called  out,  “Don’t  let 
Green  shoot,  he’ll  shoot  me,”  and  he  repeated  his 
warning  several  times. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


219 


But,  during  the  many  shots  that  were  being  fired 
from  a safe  distance  Green  found  his  opportunity  and 
got  in  his  shot,  and  Logan  showed  me  where  the  bullet 
passed  through  the  flesh  of  his  right  forearm,  causing 
him  to  relax  his  grasp  and  give  the  bear  a chance  to 
bite  his  hand  which  was  not  neglected.  The  right 
hand  was  badly  chewed  up,  and  both  legs  were  clawed 
in  several  places.  The  bear  was  finally  killed,  having 
received  many  wounds. 

The  whole  incident  was  a most  creditable  exhibition 
and  proof  of  courage  of  the  highest  order,  combined 
with  cool  discretion  and  good  judgment.  Not  many 
men  would  have  remembered  that  Green  was  such  a 
poor  shot.  Unfortunately,  Hawkins  and  Green  did 
not  have  their  share  of  the  courage  which  Logan  gave 
so  fine  an  exhibition  of.  They  preferred  to  allow 
Logan  to  beat  them  in  the  race  after  the  bear,  and 
having  arrived  on  the  battle  field  they  preferred  to 
fire  from  a safe  distance. 

The  bear’s  skin,  one  of  the  largest  I ever  saw,  was 
nailed  on  the  outside  of  a small  building  that  I passed 
by  every  day  on  my  road  from  the  Post  Bakery  to  the 
barracks  of  “Company  F. ” I was  Post  Treasurer, 
and  daily  inspected  the  bakery,  and  then  I went  from 
there  to  my  company  barracks.  Remembering  that 
I had  put  lots  of  salt  on  the  inside  of  my  bear  hide, 
in  order  to  keep  the  hair  from  coming  off,  I advised 
the  same  treatment  in  this  case,  although  the  weather 
was  much  cooler  than  it  was  when  I killed  my  bear. 

Next  morning,  in  passing  by  the  bear  skin,  I noticed 
that  instead  of  salt  they  had  put  ashes,  lots  of  ashes, 
all  over  the  inside  of  the  skin.  Knowing  that  ashes 
would  cause  every  hair  to  fall  off,  I promptly  told 
whoever  was  in  charge  of  it  that  the  ashes  should  be 


220 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


carefully  scraped  off,  and  lots  of  salt  immediately 
rubbed  in,  good  and  hard.  Next  day  I saw  ashes  and 
salt  all  mixed  together  on  the  hide.  I let  it  go,  I 
meddled  no  more,  and  I soon  saw  that  Logan’s  beauti- 
ful bear  skin  was  ruined. 

About  this  time  there  came  to  the  regiment  by 
promotion  a new  lieutenant  colonel,  Emerson  H. 
Liscum.  He  was  a mild  mannered,  blue  eyed,  heavy 
set  and  soldierly  man,  and  an  excellent  officer.  He 
gave  our  battalion  its  best  instruction  up  to  that  date. 
Knowing  that  our  companies  frequently  used  the 
excellent  terrain  about  Fort  Bayard  for  various  field 
exercises,  he  varied  our  instruction  a little  further. 
We  had  not  then  arrived  at  the  point  where  we  put 
everything  in  writing,  and,  generally  speaking,  made 
a formal  and  sometimes  stiff  proceeding  of  the  various 
forms,  or  types  of  battle  exercises. 

The  following  is  a sample  of  his  more  direct  and 
simple  method,  which,  in  my  estimation,  produced 
excellent  results,  and  which  should  not  be  entirely 
ignored,  even  now. 

The  battalion  being  formed,  Col.  Liscum  called  me 
to  him  and  said,  “Captain  Crane,  Captain  James  and 
three  companies  will  proceed  to  Pinos  Altos  by  the 
regular  road  and  will  start  in  exactly  half  an  hour. 
With  your  company  you  go  and  waylay  him  some- 
where on  the  road.  You  have  just  half  an  hour’s 
start  of  him.  Go  ahead.’’ 

I started  immediately,  walking  at  the  head  of  my 
company  across  country,  to  a high  hill  which  I could 
see  about  five  miles  away  and  which  I hoped  to  find 
close  to  the  Pinos  Altos  road  mentioned.  I had  never 
been  there  before. 

Going  to  the  hill  without  halt  and  climbing  it  with 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


221 


my  company  I was  delighted  to  see  that  the  road 
passed  along  its  base  and  not  more  than  250  yards 
from  the  hilltop,  and  in  plain  view  from  the  top  of 
the  hill.  There  I placed  my  men  in  carefully  concealed 
position,  and  then  waited  for  Capt.  James,  whose 
men  finally  came  in  sight  about  two  miles  off  and 
approached  in  the  typical  march  formation  in  hostile 
country,  with  point,  advance  guard,  flankers,  etc. 
We  saw  their  rifles  first,  flashing  in  the  sunlight  as  the 
men  came  along  the  crooked  road  through  the  short, 
scrub  timber. 

I kept  my  men  lying  flat  on  the  ground,  and  I kept 
myself  equally  well  concealed.  Their  flankers  stayed 
too  close  to  the  road  and  passed  across  our  front,  only 
75  yards  away,  and  they  never  investigated  the  top 
of  the  hill  where  we  lay  flat  on  the  ground.  When 
the  main  body  was  opposite  our  position,  in  fullest 
view  and  with  no  cover  near,  my  company  opened 
fire.  Having  no  blank  ammunition,  with  which  to 
give  notice  of  my  whereabouts,  I rose  to  my  feet  on  the 
highest  point  of  the  hill,  so  as  to  let  the  enemy  see 
where  the  fire  came  from,  and  then  I yelled  my  com- 
mands at  the  top  of  my  voice,  “Commence  firing,” 
after  giving  the  range  and  class  of  fire  to  be  used.  My 
commands  were  plainly  heard,  and  there  was  hurried 
and  confused  effort  made  by  part  of  the  main  body, 
some  to  find  cover  and  some  to  come  straight  at  us. 
I had  succeeded  in  waylaying  the  other  three  com- 
panies of  the  battalion,  and  we  continued  our  day’s 
exercises  by  marching  on  to  Pinos  Altos  and  lunching 
there,  all  together.  We  then  marched  home  the 
easiest  way. 

On  another  occasion  Col.  Liscum  said,  “Capt. 
Crane,  your  company  is  the  rear  guard  of  a force 


222 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


retreating  on  the  road  to  Silver  City  (8  miles),  and 
you  have  just  half  an  hour’s  start  of  me.  I am  coming 
after  you  with  the  other  three  companies.  Go  ahead.” 

And  I went,  and  lost  no  time,  but  marched  fast  till 
I found  a position  suitable  for  a delaying  fight.  I 
made  my  first  halt  several  miles  away.  I had  not 
long  to  wait,  for  the  other  fellows  marched  fast,  too, 
and  I thought  they  came  on  too  fast  and  without 
observing  proper  precautions  in  running  on  men  in 
position.  The  delaying  combat  and  the  rapid  retreat 
from  one  position  to  another  soon  carried  us  to  the 
hills  overlooking  Silver  City,  and  there  we  took  half 
an  hour’s  rest  and  all  marched  home  together. 

These  exercises  were  not  much  for  formality,  but 
they  were  certainly  instructive  and  interesting.  With 
our  companies  we  had,  singly  and  more  or  less  com- 
bined, quite  a number  of  drills  and  exercises  similar 
to  the  two  described,  all  to  our  great  benefit.  The 
territory  of  that  immediate  vicinity  lent  itself  per- 
fectly to  that  kind  of  work. 

The  hill  opposite  the  post,  at  the  old  ice  house,  was 
shaped  like  Majuba  Hill  was  described  to  be,  with 
rounded  top  which  gave  cover  to  the  enemy  at  the 
base  and  during  part  of  their  ascent,  and  thus  placed 
troops  holding  the  hilltop  at  quite  a disadvantage. 
More  than  once  I took  my  company  in  skirmish  line 
against  that  hill,  previously  explaining  each  time  the 
resemblance  to  Majuba  Hill,  and  the  advantage  given 
us  by  such  a conformation  of  the  earth. 

A few  years  afterwards  I recognized  another  such 
shaped  hill  at  San  Juan  Hill,  Cuba,  and  I believe  that 
our  attacking  troops  were  to  much  extent  safe  from  the 
fire  of  the  Spaniards  who  were  on  that  hilltop.  I was 
not  at  that  battle,  I regret  to  say. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


223 


One  of  the  many  changes  of  the  garrison  brought  us 
Capt.  De  Rudio,  7th  Cavalry,  who  had  been  at 
Custer’s  last  battle,  at  the  Little  Big  Horn  River,  and 
I enjoyed  exceedingly  his  wonderful  description  of  his 
personal  experiences  on  that  battle  field.  He  was  with 
Reno’s  column  that  day,  and  Benteen’s  column  joined 
it  after  Reno’s  people  had  been  driven  out  of  the  river 
valley.  In  his  story  De  Rudio  became  so  intensely 
interested  that  his  acting  was  better  than  any  that  I 
ever  saw  on  the  theatrical  stage.  He  was  a very 
interesting  man. 

During  the  last  half  of  my  service  at  Fort  Bayard 
I served  with  the  1st  and  7th  Cavalry,  and  with  Capts. 
Jack  Pitcher,  De  Rudio  and  J.  G.  Galbraith,  and  with 
their  lieutenants,  O.  J.  Brown,  W.  J.  Glasgow,  H.  J. 
Slocum  and  others. 

In  December  of  1895  there  occurred  another  small 
Indian  outbreak  down  the  Gila  River,  and  cavalry 
was  needed  from  Fort  Bayard.  De  Rudio  was  await- 
ing retirement  soon  for  age,  and  no  other  cavalry 
officer  was  present  at  the  post,  so,  once  again  I rode 
with  the  cavalry.  After  retreat  I was  called  to  the 
office  of  the  Commanding  Officer  and  directed  to 
make  the  necessary  arrangements  to  start  early  next 
morning.  Of  course  I did  it,  and  on  time  I started, 
December  5th  with  50  cavalrymen,  and  wagon  trans- 
portation, rations  and  forage.  I had  all  the  available 
men  from  the  two  troops,  there  being  other  field  work 
at  that  same  time.  I had  no  scout,  nor  guide,  but  we 
marched  through  Silver  City,  over  the  Burro  Moun- 
tains and  on  towards  the  Gila  River  and  Fort  Grant, 
Arizona,  to  join  in  the  hunt  for  some  Indians  that  had 
killed  an  old  man  and  his  daughter. 

We  went  down  the  Gila  and  then  up  the  San  Fran- 


224 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


cisco  River,  and  up  some  other  streams,  and  across 
some  mountains,  hoping  that  some  good  luck  might 
throw  us  across  the  path  of  the  Indians.  We  hunted 
them  as  we  hunted  deer. 

Only  two  Indians  had  been  positively  seen  or  in  any 
way  counted,  and  there  were  plenty  of  troops  after 
them.  Captain  McCormick  and  his  troop  of  the  7th 
Cavalry,  from  Fort  Grant,  provided  with  competent 
guides,  was  close  on  their  trail.  Those  guides,  or 
trailers,  were  excellent  at  such  work,  and  with  their 
assistance  Capt.  McCormick  followed  the  trail  of 
those  two  lone  Indians  for  more  than  50  miles,  much 
of  the  time  among  rocks  that  to  my  eyes  could  show 
no  trace  of  man  or  beast,  especially  if  that  beast  wore 
only  fresh  raw  hide  shoes,  as  was  the  case.  Several 
pairs  of  these  worn  out  pieces  of  raw  hide,  taken  from  a 
freshly  killed  cow,  were  picked  up,  one  after  another, 
by  McCormick’s  people,  and  finally  the  sole  horse  of 
the  two  Indians,  man  and  woman,  was  also  found 
abandoned.  The  little  black  mare  was  too  tired  to 
travel  any  farther,  but  the  Indians  escaped,  and  left 
absolutely  no  trace  of  their  movements. 

But  with  my  men,  without  guide  or  trailer,  I 
marched  and  looked  and  hunted,  and  saw  no  signs  of 
Indians  anywhere,  and  at  the  end  of  three  weeks 
we  were  back  at  Fort  Bayard,  arriving  there  the  day 
after  Xmas.  We  passed  through  the  town  of  Clifton, 
Arizona,  and  up  one  or  two  rivers,  and  all  the  time 
we  hunted  for  Indians  just  as  one  does  for  dangerous 
game.  I had  in  the  beginning  a fractious  horse,  a 
splendid  traveller,  but  not  accustomed  to  go  in  the 
lead.  After  passing  through  the  town  of  Clifton  I 
tried  to  overcome  his  fractiousness.  I had  quite  a 
lively  time  with  him,  and  had  to  give  it  up,  after 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


225 


getting  a sprained  foot  as  my  share  of  the  fun.  I 
exchanged  him  for  an  animal  that  I could  ride  any- 
where. 

During  those  years  at  Fort  Bayard  I received  several 
tokens  of  the  high  esteem  in  which  I was  held  at  the 
War  Department.  In  1892  I was  given  the  detail  of 
assistant  to  the  Commanding  Officer  of  the  Columbian 
Guard  at  the  Chicago  Exposition.  The  order  was 
issued,  and  then  I was  notified.  But,  hurriedly  count- 
ing up  the  probable  expense  and  my  income  while 
there,  I was  compelled  to  request  that  another  officer 
be  given  that  very  desirable  detail  in  my  place,  and 
it  was  done.  The  great  cost  of  living  in  Chicago 
with  my  family  caused  me  to  make  such  request,  and 
I have  regretted  it  ever  since,  for  I learned  later  on 
that  my  position  carried  with  it  an  additional  thousand 
dollars. 

In  less  than  a year  after  declining  that  detail  I was 
offered  recruiting  duty  at  David’s  Island,  now  Fort 
Slocum,  N.  Y.,  and  this  too  I declined. 

Within  a very  few  more  months  the  college  detail 
at  Auburn,  Alabama,  was  offered  me.  This  too,  I 
declined,  but  feeling  that  my  old  time  captain  and 
good  friend,  Henry  C.  Corbin,  then  in  the  Adjutant 
General’s  office  at  Washington,  was  responsible  for 
such  repeated  instances  of  favorable  appreciation  I 
wrote  to  him  and  assured  him  that  I was  very  grateful 
to  the  War  Department,  but  that  I did  not,  at  that 
time,  desire  any  duty  away  from  my  regiment;  that 
I was  a newly  promoted  captain  and  wished  first  of 
all  to  make  a success  of  my  duties.  General  Corbin 
answered  my  letter  very  kindly. 

In  1895  I received  a letter  from  Major  G.  B.  Davis, 
then  in  charge  of  the  Rebellion  Records,  and  after- 


226 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


wards  Judge  Advocate  General,  informing  me  that 
because  of  my  having  evinced  a desire  to  study  the 
lessons  taught  in  the  campaigns  of  our  great  struggle, 
the  Civil  War,  the  War  Department  had  selected  me 
to  receive  one  of  the  very  few  remaining  sets  of  Re- 
bellion Records  still  available  for  distribution.  I 
promptly  wrote  a letter  of  warm  thanks,  and  very 
soon  I received  many  volumes,  and  now  I have  the 
entire  set,  complete,  including  the  maps,  which  I had 
bound  in  two  separate  volumes.  Prior  to  the  war 
with  Spain  I read  in  those  interesting  records  a great 
deal,  and  I liked  best  that  part  devoted  to  short 
letters,  telegrams,  etc. 

Sometime  in  1895  I had  an  interesting  experience  one 
day  during  the  drill  hour.  I was  about  to  drill  the  bat- 
talion, and  the  Adjutant,  Lieut.  Chas.  Dodge,  Jr.,  was 
about  to  present  it  to  me  when  a shot  was  fired  in  one  of 
the  company  barracks  close  to  us.  Seeing  some  signs  of 
excitement  in  rear  of  the  barracks,  as  though  some 
one  was  attempting  to  escape,  I turned  the  battalion 
over  to  the  next  ranking  officer,  Lieut.  Dodge,  and 
taking  a rifle  from  a soldier  I quickly  rode  to  where  I 
could  learn  what  had  occurred.  From  the  rear  of  the 
barracks  I could  see  a soldier  running  down  a road, 
several  hundred  yards  away.  I learned  that  the  shot 
had  been  fired  by  a soldier  at  a peace  officer  from  the 
neighboring  village  of  Central  who  had  come  to  arrest 
him  without  first  going  to  the  soldier’s  commanding 
officer  for  advice  and  assistance,  as  was  the  custom 
with  well-informed  peace  officers.  I galloped  after 
the  fugitive,  but  I soon  lost  sight  of  him  when  I got 
down  in  the  valley. 

I guessed  at  the  direction  taken  by  the  soldier,  and 
went  the  wrong  way,  and  finally  circled  around  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


227 


spot  where  I had  last  seen  him.  At  last  I started 
back  towards  the  post,  right  across  the  locality  where 
I thought  he  had  disappeared,  and  I searched  well 
every  bush  and  bunch  of  grass.  I was  rewarded  by 
discovering  him  from  his  rear,  his  blue  trousers  seat 
sticking  out  from  a clump  of  low  bushes,  his  body 
and  head  being  in  the  bushes,  from  which  he  was 
intently  watching  towards  the  post,  from  which 
direction  it  was  soon  shown  that  he  saw  coming  to- 
wards him,  in  good  skirmish  line,  an  entire  company, 
my  own.  I quickly  dismounted  when  I saw  him, 
about  75  yards  away,  and  leaving  my  horse  standing 
I walked  straight  at  him  with  my  rifle  at  a ready, 
moving  quietly  and  quickly. 

I had  arrived  within  30  yards  from  him  before  he 
heard  me  and  looked  around.  I quickly  brought  my 
rifle  to  my  shoulder,  aimed  it  at  the  soldier  and  then 
ordered  him  to  drop  his  rifle  and  move  away  from  it. 
I was  advancing  steadily  all  the  time,  and  now  I saw 
the  skirmish  line  which  he  had  been  looking  at  through 
the  bushes.  The  man’s  rifle  was  full  of  cartridges,  his 
belt  was  full  and  he  had  several  cartridges  in  his  hand 
when  he  rose  to  his  feet.  All  this  showed  his  intention 
of  fighting,  and  after  he  was  carried  to  the  guard  house 
he  told  how  he  would  have  shot  Capt.  Crane  if  an 
opportunity  had  presented  itself.  I had  had  him  with 
me  as  a teamster  once  when  out  hunting,  and  we  had 
not  pleased  each  other.  But  I did  not  know  who  I was 
hunting  until  he  rose  from  that  bush. 

A most  interesting  feature  of  the  country  around 
Fort  Bayard  was  the  evidence  of  former  inhabitants, 
both  cliff  dwellers  and  valley  dwellers.  Within  the 
narrow  limits  of  the  post  itself  were  found  the  indica- 
tions of  the  foundations  of  old  time  houses  made  of 


228 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


rocks  and  some  sort  of  a cement  to  hold  them  together, 
and  a little  digging  brought  to  light  specimens  of  old 
time  pottery,  stone  hammers,  parts  of  skeletons  and 
charred  pieces  of  Indian  corn.  The  same  signs  of  a 
former  race  were  found  in  the  caves  and  cliffs  along  the 
Gila  River.  In  the  valleys  former  residences  were  in- 
dicated by  lines  of  rocks  on  the  ground,  arranged  so 
as  to  resemble  the  foundations  of  a house,  and  such 
indications  could  be  found  in  many  valleys. 

Houses,  or  walls  of  houses  made  of  stone  and  cement 
were,  and  must  still  be  plentiful  in  the  caves  and  cliffs 
along  the  Gila  River.  During  my  two  months  at 
Hill’s  Hot  Springs  in  1895,  while  riding  up  the  river 
valley  one  day  with  my  wife  and  elder  son,  I saw  a 
big  cave,  and  climbing  up  to  it  I found  an  immense 
vault  in  the  side  of  the  bluff,  more  than  15  feet  high 
at  the  front,  and  extending  back  from  twenty  to  forty 
yards  into  the  side  of  the  bluff,  and  about  an  equal 
distance  along  the  face  of  the  bluff.  In  this  space  we 
saw  a series  of  houses  without  tops,  all  connected  to- 
gether by  doors  about  two  and  a half  feet  high  and  two 
feet  wide.  Inside  we  found  charred  pieces  of  wood  and 
charred  ears  of  corn.  We  did  no  digging.  From  50 
to  100  cliff  dwellers  must  have  lived  there,  long,  long 
time  ago.  The  belief  in  that  country  is,  or  was,  that 
the  Chiricahua  Indians  drove  those  settlers  away 
from  the  valleys,  and  then  from  the  cliffs  up  to  where 
the  Moqui  and  Zuni  Indians  now  live. 

On  another  occasion,  a day  or  two  later,  I climbed 
up  into  another  cave  where  I found  one  or  two  houses 
and  some  deeper  recesses  in  the  wall  of  the  bluff  which 
I did  not  like  the  odor  of.  Perhaps  I smelled  only  a 
bat  cave,  but  I saw  no  bats,  and  it  might  have  been  a 
bear  cave.  I had  my  shot  gun  and  very  little  room  in 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


229 


which  to  move  about  in  case  of  trouble  with  “Old 
Eph,”  so,  I did  not  investigate  very  fully  the  bad 
smelling  cave.  In  leaving  the  cave  I had  to  go  down 
into  the  top  of  a tree  and  my  gun  made  that  kind  of 
work  quite  awkward.  Those  cliff  dwellers  must  have 
had  the  art  of  making  a cement  which  has  stood  the 
test  of  a long  time,  but  the  perfect  specimens  of  cement 
were  always  in  the  cliffs  where  the  rain  could  not  wet 
anything. 

I often  think  of  two  occasions  when  something 
good  to  eat  seemed  unusually  good.  In  1891  I went 
down  below  the  post  into  the  prairie  fifteen  or  twenty 
miles,  to  the  little  house  of  a young  man  named 
Loomis,  who  was  to  show  me  some  antelope.  He 
showed  me  the  game  all  right,  and  I killed  three  with- 
out moving  out  of  my  position,  and  then  we  brought 
them  back  to  the  house,  where  Mr.  Loomis  said  that 
he  would  get  dinner  ready  for  us.  In  a very  short  time 
he  cooked  some  of  the  best  “spoon  bread,”  he  called 
it.  He  did  not  put  a hand  to  the  dough,  using  only  a 
spoon,  but  it  puffed  up  and  stayed  up,  and  was  deli- 
cious bread.  The  young  man  was  of  good  stock, 
having  been  in  the  law  office  of  General  John  M. 
Palmer,  of  Illinois,  at  one  time,  having  then  the  idea 
of  being  a lawyer. 

The  other  occasion  was  in  the  fall  of  1895,  when  I 
went  with  Lieutenants  Jenks,  Laws  and  Price  over 
the  mountains  to  the  Sapillo  Creek.  We  picked  up 
Strat  Biddle,  the  brother  of  the  Army  Biddles,  and 
then  we  moved  on  down  the  Sapillo  to  the  Culberson 
ranch,  and  camped  a couple  of  miles  below  it.  Find- 
ing game  too  scarce  for  so  many,  Strat  Biddle  borrowed 
from  the  ranch  an  old  aparejo  pack  saddle  and  packed 
one  of  our  wagon  mules  with  stuff  for  three  of  us,  and 


230 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


he  did  it  the  best  I ever  saw.  Then  Price,  Biddle  and 
I walked  over  the  mountain  to  the  Gila  River,  leading 
the  packed  mule.  We  returned  in  a day  or  two  by  the 
same  trail,  and  all  of  us  had  the  finest  of  appetites 
and  enough  hunger  to  satisfy  any  cook.  Biddle  sug- 
gested that  we  stop  at  his  place  on  the  Sapillo  as  we 
returned  home.  He  thought  that  he  could  cook  the 
Mexican  frijole  (large,  brown  bean)  so  as  to  tempt  our 
appetite,  and  then  satisfy  it.  He  was  right.  I never, 
before  or  since,  tasted  such  fine  beans  as  those  Strat 
Biddle  cooked  for  us  that  day.  I don’t  remember 
what  he  did  to  them,  but  I still  remember  the  great 
satisfaction  given  all  of  us.  Biddle  also  shod  several 
of  our  mules,  cowboy  fashion,  using  implements  found 
at  the  ranch,  and  shoes  from  the  wagon  box.  He  was 
very  versatile.  I believe  he  afterwards  went  to 
Johannisberg,  South  Africa. 

For  years  I had  worn,  while  hunting,  clothing  of 
dead  grass  color,  because  of  its  great  invisibility  which 
enabled  me  to  get  close  to  whatever  I happened  to  be 
hunting.  Many  hunts  justified  my  selection  of  this 
color,  especially  my  last  big  hunt  from  Fort  Bayard, 
in  the  latter  part  of  November,  1895.  On  this  hunt  I 
took  with  me  my  second  lieutenant,  J.  N.  Augustin, 
Jr.  We  went  south  through  Separ  to  the  Animas 
Valley,  and  camped  the  latter  half  of  our  time  at  or 
near  the  old  Lang  ranch,  not  far  from  the  Mexican 
border.  We  had  wasted  the  first  half  of  our  time 
hunting  deer  in  the  mountains  without  even  seeing  a 
single  one,  and  then  we  went  down  into  the  valley  to 
hunt  antelope.  My  men  had  good  luck  while  hunting 
in  the  valley,  after  our  change  of  camp,  but  I did  some 
very  poor  shooting  till  the  afternoon  of  the  very  last 
day  of  our  hunt  from  that  camp,  and  it  was  my  dead 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


231 


grass  colored  clothing  that  saved  my  reputation  as  a 
hunter  on  that  trip. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  while  standing  in  a place 
where  I could  see  for  miles  and  miles,  and  with  hardly 
a sprig  of  grass  to  hide  even  my  shoes,  I saw  several 
antelope  coming  in  my  direction  from  the  opposite 
side  of  the  valley,  two  antelope  being  followed  at 
some  distance  by  a third  one.  I stood  motionless, 
waiting  to  see  if  they  would  come  near  enough  to 
allow  me  a shot  at  them,  and  I was  surprised  to  note 
how  straight  towards  me  they  were  coming.  Of 
course  I stood  as  still  and  motionless  as  I possibly 
could,  with  my  rifle  at  the  ready,  while  I watched  the 
antelope  approaching. 

The  leading  couple  veered  off  to  their  right  when 
about  200  yards  away  from  me,  but,  noting  that  the 
one  in  rear  was  still  coming  my  way  I waited  for  him, 
and  that  antelope  came  so  straight  at  me  that  I 
thought  he  would  pass  in  five  or  ten  feet  of  me.  But, 
when  about  fifty  yards  from  me  he  saw  me,  apparently 
for  the  first  time,  and  then  he  turned  squarely  to  his 
right  with  increased  speed.  I aimed  ahead  of  him,  and 
my  bullet  hit  his  hip,  so  fast  was  he  running.  Nothing 
but  my  old  suit  of  dead  grass  colored  clothing  saved 
me  that  time,  and  kept  my  men  from  losing  confidence 
in  my  hunting.  They  had  killed  nine  or  ten  of  the 
beautiful  prairie  animals  now  disappearing  so  fast. 
My  hunting  experiences  proved  to  me  the  great  value 
of  having  service  military  clothing  of  an  invisible 
color,  and  I therefore  recommended  it. 

On  this  hunt  I took  along  my  man  Beckam,  intend- 
ing to  give  him  some  valuable  experience  in  the  field, 
still  training  him  to  be  first  sergeant  some  day. 

Fort  Bayard  was  a fine  place  to  bring  up  a growing 


232 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


family.  The  colored  women  that  followed  the  24th 
Infantry  furnished  always  good  material  for  cooks, 
nurses  and  laundresses,  thus  insuring  much  needed 
assistance.  We  had  the  same  nurse  for  the  first  month 
of  each  of  our  boys,  and  the  same  woman  was  now  and 
then  our  cook,  a fine  one,  too.  Another  woman,  the 
wife  of  another  band  man,  was  our  cook  for  more  than 
two  years.  The  daughter  of  a third  band  man  was 
nurse  for  several  years,  nursing  both  boys. 

My  mother  visited  us  twice  at  Fort  Bayard,  the 
second  time  being  when  Carey  was  about  four  years 
old.  She  went  with  Mrs.  Markley  to  Rogers’  ranch 
one  day,  and  they  took  Carey  with  them,  also  a lunch. 
When  they  returned  the  child  showed  plainly  that  his 
lunch  had  not  agreed  with  him,  so  I asked  my  mother 
what  the  boy  had  eaten.  She  was  surprised,  and 
answered,  “Oh,  nothing.  Only  what  we  ate.”  When 
pinned  down  to  actual  fact  my  mother  had  to  acknowl- 
edge that  she  had  given  a four -year-old  child  some 
nice  tender  veal ! When  I expressed  my  astonishment 
she  said,  “Why,  I gave  Carey  Rippeteau  (another 
grandson)  fried  oysters  when  he  was  only  one  year 
old.”  But,  she  had  to  confess  that  fried  oysters  had 
made  the  one-year-old  boy  just  a little  sick!  Grand- 
mothers forget  a great  deal  about  the  bringing  up  of 
children,  and  are  inclined  to  give  a child  whatever  the 
little  one  begs  for. 

I did  not  get  to  the  World’s  Fair  at  Chicago,  but 
my  wife  went.  She  also  went  on  a good  leave  of 
absence  just  prior  to  our  departure  from  Bayard.  Her 
mother,  father  and  sister  Henrietta  visited  us,  both  at 
Fort  Bayard  and  Fort  Douglas. 

Altogether,  my  service  at  Fort  Bayard  was  very 
pleasant,  and  the  six  years  that  I spent  there  were 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


233 


the  happiest  of  my  life.  My  commanding  officers 
appreciated  me,  and  my  brother  officers  were  my 
friends.  I always  worked  hard  at  my  military  duties, 
so  hard  that  I needed  rest  and  recreation,  and  luckily 
I could  find  the  kind  I liked  best  near  that  station. 
Hunting  was  very  good  in  many  localities  around 
Bayard,  and  not  very  far  away.  Besides  the  grizzly 
previously  mentioned  I killed  during  my  six  years  of 
service  there,  15  deer,  6 antelope,  10  turkeys,  656 
quail,  2 coyotes,  125  ducks,  many  doves,  some  snipes, 
grey  mountain  squirrels,  wild  pigeons  and  rabbits. 
All  this  game  made  my  meat  bill  much  smaller,  and 
my  meat  diet  much  better.  I always  divided  gener- 
ously the  results  of  my  hunts  among  my  fellow  officers. 
I never  had  to  throw  away  any  of  the  game  I killed. 

Any  meat  that  we  bought,  outside  of  what  we 
bought  from  the  contractor  for  the  Army,  came  from 
Silver  City.  Capt.  C.  C.  Hood  wished  to  get  from 
our  Silver  City  grocer  an  especially  nice  piece  of 
mutton,  and  he  wanted  to  be  sure  that  it  was  to  be 
sheep  mutton,  not  goat  mutton  which  he  knew  was 
very  easy  to  get,  and  which  he  imagined  was  an  infer- 
ior kind  of  meat.  So,  he  cautioned  the  grocer  to  be 
very  careful  and  to  give  him  real  sheep,  not  goat,  add- 
ing that  he  had  heard  that  this  was  sometimes  done  in 
Silver  City. 

The  grocer  laughed  and  said,  “ Capt.  Hood,  I thought 
you  understood.  I have  sold  you  nothing  but  goat 
meat.  We  have  no  sheep  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
so,  by  courtesy  we  call  our  goat  meat  ‘mutton,’  and 
there’s  mighty  little  difference.  If  you  want  some 
very  fine  goat  meat  I can  furnish  it,  but  I have  no 
mutton  to  sell  you.”  Capt.  Hood  took  the  goat 
mutton,  and  was  very  glad  to  get  it,  and  afterwards 


234 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


he  told  the  story  on  himself  with  much  satisfaction. 
From  experience  I know  that  it  is  practically  impossi- 
ble to  distinguish  goat  meat  from  that  of  the  sheep,  if 
cooked  in  the  same  way  and  if  young,  and  I ate  lots 
of  fine  goat  “mutton”  at  Fort  Bayard. 

Bayard  was  the  healthiest  post  that  I ever  served  at. 
My  small  family  thrived  there,  my  two  sons  grew  up 
healthy  and  strong,  and  the  time  had  not  yet  arrived 
when  our  people  had  run  society  mad,  using  up  an 
officer’s  money  frivolously. 

I derived  great  pleasure  from  taking  young  officers 
with  me  on  long  camp  hunts,  and  during  this  sport  I 
thought  that  I got  quite  a good  idea  as  to  what  kind 
of  a man  the  youngster  would  be  a little  later.  Really, 
I believe  that  a man  shows  some  of  his  best  and  some 
of  his  worst  qualities  while  working  hard  in  hunting, 
eating  somewhat  irregularly,  and  shooting  poorly, 
along  with  his  hunting  comrades.  If  one  is  a good 
hunting  companion,  one  is  apt  to  have  some  other 
good  qualities.  But,  while  actually  hunting,  I never 
wanted  to  be  with  any  one.  I never  found  any  animal 
game  so  plentiful  so  as  to  be  enough  for  two  hunters, 
and  I have  not  hunted  any  game  that  was  so  danger- 
ous as  to  require  two  hunters  to  handle  it. 

During  the  summer  of  1896  our  excellent  colonel, 
Jacob  Ford  Kent,  informed  the  regiment  that  we 
would  soon  be  moved  to  other  stations,  and  that  we 
could  practically  select  our  own  post  west  of  the 
Mississippi  River.  He  had  his  adjutant  circulate  a 
paper  calling  on  each  officer  to  indicate  thereon  his 
preference  between  Fort  Snelling,  Angel  Island, 
Vancouver  Barracks  and  Fort  Douglas.  A safe 
majority  voted  for  Fort  Douglas,  Utah,  knowing  that 
the  colonel  had  named  the  most  desirable  posts  west 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


235 


of  the  Mississippi;  at  least  we  fully  agreed  with  his 
selections  for  us  to  choose  from. 

Before  the  summer  was  over  the  order  directing  the 
change  of  station  was  received,  as  predicted  by  our 
colonel,  and  my  company  was  selected  to  go  ahead  and 
take  over  the  care  of  Fort  Douglas  pending  the 
arrival  of  the  regiment.  I considered  this  action 
quite  complimentary  to  my  company  and  to  me,  and 
I was  therefore  glad  to  be  thus  singled  out.  So,  with 
Company  “F,”  24th  Infantry,  and  my  lieutenants, 
Tayman  and  Augustin,  and  their  wives,  I started  for 
Fort  Douglas  about  the  middle  of  October,  1896,  my 
wife  being  absent  on  leave  at  her  father’s  home  in 
Lancaster,  Pa.  We  were  a very  happy  crowd  as  we 
went  to  what  we  considered  our  first  real  nice  post 
for  the  24th  Infantry.  Before  we  started  we  heard 
of  a monster  petition  being  gotten  up  by  the  citizens 
of  Utah,  requesting  that  the  24th  Infantry  be  not 
sent  to  Fort  Douglas.  That  hurt  our  feelings  very 
much,  for  the  regiment  was  very  proud  of  its  discipline 
and  efficiency,  and  justly  so.  All  the  same,  we  were 
mighty  glad  to  go  to  a first  class  post. 

We  were  to  relieve  the  — th  Infantry  of  all  duties 
there  until  the  arrival  of  our  own  regiment,  but  when 
we  got  to  Fort  Douglas  we  found  a lieutenant  colonel 
and  one  company  waiting  for  us,  and  they  would  not 
transfer  and  leave.  The  other  man  was  my  senior. 
During  our  week  of  waiting  the  captain  of  the  — th 
Infantry  did  not  come  near  one  of  us,  nor  of  our 
temporary  quarters,  for  he  carefully  went  out  of  his 
way  to  avoid  us.  I never  forgave  that  officer,  and  I 
was  delighted  when,  a little  later,  he  was  promoted  into 
a colored  regiment. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


As  explained  in  the  previous  chapter  I was  sent 
ahead  of  the  regiment  with  my  company,  including  my 
lieutenants,  Tayman  and  Augustin,  who  had  their 
wives  with  them.  In  addition  to  the  very  unsatis- 
factory condition  of  the  buildings  vacated  for  us  by 
the  — th  Infantry,  there  was  a most  unfavorable 
impression,  or  opinion  of  colored  troops  awaiting  our 
arrival.  We  had  already  heard  of  this  feeling,  and  of 
petitions  against  our  coming,  and  of  the  signatures  of 
many  thousands  to  said  papers,  all  before  leaving 
Bayard;  naturally,  it  would  have  been  very  easy  to 
pick  a quarrel  with  us. 

On  detraining  at  Salt  Lake  City  I marched  my 
company  in  utter  silence,  without  a halt,  through  the 
streets  and  until  we  had  passed  the  last  house  of  the 
city,  at  least  two  miles  and  a half.  I halted  my  com- 
pany in  the  middle  of  the  post  parade  ground,  and  was 
immediately  joined  there  by  the  acting  adjutant  who 
did  his  best  to  make  us  comfortable. 

The  24th  Infantry  having  fully  settled  down  to 
business  at  Fort  Douglas,  we  had  little  difficulty  in 
wiping  away  all  previously  conceived  unfavorable 
impressions,  and  wre  were  not  long  in  learning  that  the 
drill  and  conduct  of  our  men  had  made  an  excellent 
impression,  as  compared  with  former  garrisons.  The 


236 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


237 


regiment  was  concentrated  at  one  post,  for  the  first 
time  in  many  years,  but,  owing  to  the  queer  change 
made  not  long  before  in  the  organization  of  a regiment, 
we  had  only  eight  full  companies,  the  other  two  being 
skeleton  companies,  to  which  all  absent  officers  were 
transferred.  In  those  days  an  infantry  regiment 
contained  only  ten  companies,  artillery  and  cavalry 
regiments  having  twelve. 

Fort  Douglas  was  deservedly  popular.  We  soon 
grew  to  be  very  fond  of  the  post,  in  spite  of  the  bitter 
taste  in  our  mouths  on  arrival  there.  We  found  a very 
agreeable  set  of  Gentiles  in  Salt  Lake  City,  and  the 
Mormons  also  treated  us  very  cordially.  But  we  liked 
the  Gentile  set  best,  although  we  met  the  very  best  of 
the  Mormon  families.  The  post  was  located  at  the 
foot  of  a high  mountain  range,  and  about  four  miles 
from  the  railroad  depot  in  the  city,  and  there  were 
two  lines  of  street  cars,  running  at  30  minutes’  interval 
on  each  line,  giving  15  minutes  between  cars. 

We  could  turn  our  backs  on  the  city,  if  we  wished, 
and  be  in  the  mountains,  and  in  a few  miles  we  could 
find  good  game.  Getting  tired  of  that  we  could  enjoy 
the  pleasures  and  advantages  of  a flourishing  and 
prosperous,  wide  awake  city,  and  a most  beautiful 
one,  too.  The  great  breadth  given  the  streets  added 
to  their  beauty,  and  surely  increased  the  cost  of  the 
pavements,  and  the  taxes  to  raise  the  necessary  money. 

There  were  two  places  on  the  lake  where  excellent 
facilities  for  bathing  were  provided.  But,  Garfield 
Beach,  the  place  prepared  by  the  Gentiles,  was  about 
five  miles  farther  than  Salt  Air,  the  work  of  the  Mor- 
mon Church,  and  the  latter  place  was  greatly  superior 
in  size  and  conveniences.  The  water  of  Salt  Lake  is 
the  saltiest  that  I ever  saw,  and  the  easiest  to  float  in, 


238 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


besides  giving  the  best  appetite  for  the  swimmer 
therein. 

We  were  not  long  in  visiting  the  Mormon  Taber- 
nacle, an  immense  building  wTith  wonderful  acoustic 
properties,  and  with  no  second  floor,  no  uprights 
except  along  the  walls  of  the  house,  the  oval  shaped 
ceiling  being  held  in  place,  like  that  of  the  Salt  Air 
pavillion,  by  a series  of  parallel  systems  of  bridge 
trusses,  all  visible. 

In  leaving  Fort  Bayard  in  October  I had  lost  the 
opportunity  of  a good  fall  hunt  from  that  post,  but  I 
did  not  lose  my  hunt  altogether.  From  Fort  Douglas 
I went,  accompanied  by  Lieut.  John  Gurney,  24th 
Infantry,  leaving  about  November  6th  on  a twelve 
days’  hunt  and  going  northward  to  Bear  River,  and 
camping  in  the  snow  every  night  out.  We  found  a few 
sage  chickens  and  ducks,  and  lots  of  rabbits.  Our 
game  froze  stiff  after  a few7  hours  in  the  night  air 
while  hanging  over  the  snow,  and  it  did  not  thaw 
until  warmed  by  the  heat  of  a house,  after  our  return 
to  the  post. 

When  we  left  the  post  we  saw  only  big,  brown 
rabbits,  or  hares,  but  in  returning,  during  the  last 
three  or  four  days  out,  we  saw  only  white  rabbits,  the 
animals  having  changed  color  with  the  arrival  of  snow 
and  cold  weather.  It  was  very  difficult  to  detect  one 
of  those  big  white  rabbits  hidden  under  a sage  bush  all 
covered  with  snow.  It  was  about  November  18th 
when  we  arrived  at  the  post,  and  the  sage  chickens 
should  have  had  the  taste  of  sage  at  that  time  of  the 
year,  but  they  did  not.  I believe  that  the  freezing 
of  the  birds  took  away  the  taste  of  sage  from  the  sage 
chickens,  and  the  taste  of  fish  from  some  fish  ducks 
which  we  brought  home  because  our  hunt  had  not 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


239 


been  a very  successful  one,  so  far  as  concerned  tbe 
amount  of  game  brought  home.  Our  hunt  had  been  a 
very  enjoyable  one.  I found  Lieut.  Gurney  to  be  fully 
as  aggressive  and  untiring  as  Lieut.  Price  had  been. 

Neither  Gurney  nor  I were  addicted  to  strong 
drink,  but  as  we  travelled  northward  into  a con- 
stantly increasing  cold,  it  occurred  to  us  that  we  ought 
to  have  some  stimulant  with  us.  But  the  idea  did  not 
really  find  expression  until  we  were  leaving  the  last 
small  town  that  we  would  see  until  we  should  return, 
and,  even  then  our  dull  wits  had  to  be  waked  up  by  the 
sight  of  the  sign,  on  the  last  house  of  the  town,  “Last 
Chance.”  Such  a sign  is,  or  used  to  be,  on  each  saloon 
located  as  the  one  before  us  on  that  occasion.  The 
reverse  side  of  the  signboard  had  “First  Chance.” 

I never  knew  whiskey  to  be  more  welcome  than  was 
that  quart  bottle  of  “Jersey  Lightning”  during  that 
hunt  of  ours.  Gurney  and  I would  return  from  hunt- 
ing each  day  all  hanging  with  icicles  and  at  the  same 
time  with  wet  underclothing  from  perspiration  caused 
by  hard  work.  The  inside  of  our  tent  was  covered 
with  snow  which  did  not  disappear  with  the  lighting 
of  a fire  in  our  small  Sibley  stove.  But,  while  the  fire 
was  heating  that  small  tent,  and  while  we  were  chang- 
ing our  underclothing  and  hanging  up  the  wet  articles 
to  dry,  a strong  drink  of  that  same  “Jersey  Lightning  ” 
certainly  hit  the  right  spot.  I guess  it  was  good  that 
we  had  only  one  bottle. 

The  slopes  and  mountains  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  Fort  Douglas  gave  good  opportunity  for  field 
exercises,  which,  however,  did  not  compare  with 
what  we  had  left  at  Fort  Bayard.  We  had  a number 
of  very  interesting  exercises,  using  the  ground  as  we 
found  it. 


240 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


In  the  summer  of  1897  seven  companies  of  us,  under 
Lieut.  Col.  Liscum,  marched  about  100  miles  over  to 
Strawberry  Valley,  and  camped  for  some  fifteen  days 
at  Sugar  Springs,  in  a beautiful  valley  through  which 
ran  a bold  stream  full  of  fish.  Sugar  Springs  water 
was  very  cold,  and  most  satisfactory  in  every  way. 
We  worked  the  first  half  of  each  day  at  some  military 
problem,  just  as  we  had  done  years  before  at  our  camp 
on  the  Sapillo  Creek,  and  I spent  the  second  half  of 
each  day  in  hunting,  and  I found  good  sage  chicken 
hunting,  also  a few  w'illow  grouse,  and  some  pretty 
fair  duck  shooting.  My  friend  Augur  enjoyed  himself 
fishing.  Our  mess  was  much  benefited  by  our  activi- 
ties after  mid-day. 

After  a most  enjoyable  official  outing  we  began  our 
march  home,  travelling  a different  route.  I was 
informed  by  Col.  Liscum  that  my  battalion,  under 
my  command,  would  be  in  the  lead.  We  still  had  the 
orders  to  make  the  last  half  of  our  marches  under 
forced  march  conditions.  I was  delighted  to  have  my 
company  in  the  lead.  For  two  years  some  of  the 
officers  of  the  regiment,  especially  Augur  and  Keene, 
had  expressed  considerable  doubt  as  to  my  two  com- 
panies having  averaged  30  miles  a day  for  three  days 
on  our  returning  from  Cooney  in  1895,  and  now  was 
my  opportunity  to  make  good,  and  make  those 
doubters  stop  talking.  So  I got  permission  from  Col. 
Liscum  to  do  some  fast  and  long  marching,  promising 
to  lead  the  march  on  foot,  and  I warned  the  “Doubt- 
ing Thomases”  to  get  ready, telling  them  that  I was 
going  to  lead  them  at  least  30  miles  a day  until  they 
acknowledged  themselves  wrong  regarding  my  prac- 
tice march  performance  two  years  before.  They 
laughed. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


241 


I was  always  a good  marcher,  and,  although  45 
years  old  at  that  time,  I was  in  the  pink  of  condition, 
just  as  I had  been  on  the  previous  march  when  we 
made  our  fine  record,  so  that  I was  sure  that  I would 
win,  and  I warned  my  battalion  as  to  what  I was  going 
to  do.  Before  sunrise  the  next  morning  we  began  the 
first  day’s  march  homeward  with  a step  and  cadence 
that  made  miles  pass  very  fast  to  the  rear.  Soon  the 
“Thomas”  crowd  were  grumbling,  and  growling, 
“What’s  the  use,  etc,”  and  each  time  my  answer  was, 
“You  doubted  our  marching  30  miles  a day  for  three 
days,  and  I am  going  to  show  you,  right  now,  before 
we  get  home.” 

We  marched  very  fast,  making  the  regulation  halts, 
till  we  stopped  for  one  of  them  about  2 p.m.  on  a 
beautiful  stream,  at  a typical  place  for  a good  camp 
site,  after  marching  about  25  miles.  The  clamor, 
for  a halt  for  the  day,  and  an  end  to  that  day’s  march 
grew  loud  and  strong.  After  I had  made  each  of  the 
doubting  officers  acknowledge  that  my  two  companies 
did  march  30  miles  a day  for  three  days,  as  claimed  by 
me,  I requested  Col.  Liscum  to  allow  us  to  go  into 
camp  on  the  ground  where  we  were  then,  and  this  he 
willingly  granted.  He  seemed  to  enjoy  my  having 
beaten  the  other  officers  regarding  that  much  dis- 
cussed march,  when  Lieut.  H.  B.  Nelson  had  walked 
with  me,  and  Lieut.  Tayman  had,  from  his  horse’s 
back,  made  a fine  road  sketch  of  the  entire  distance 
marched,  and  they  too  enjoyed  the  discomfiture  of  the 
doubters.  Our  return  march  to  Fort  Douglas  was 
also  being  made  under  forced  march  conditions,  and 
our  road  carried  us  through  some  very  interesting 
country. 

Utah  had  much  unoccupied  country,  in  fact  almost 


242 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  only  land  that  can  be  cultivated  must  lie  along 
big  creek  and  river  valleys  that  can  be  irrigated,  and 
the  Mormons  are  past  masters  in  that  art.  Our 
practice  march  was  made  in  August,  it  being  pleasant 
marching  during  that  month  in  northern  Utah.  Dur- 
ing our  stay  in  camp  at  Sugar  Springs  we  had  thin  ice 
every  morning  in  our  water  just  outside  each  tent. 

On  September  22nd,  1897,  Capt.  H.  S.  Wygant, 
Lieut.  John  Gurney  and  I started  on  a month’s 
hunt,  with  wagon  transportation  and  a good  detach- 
ment of  enlisted  men.  Gurney  and  I rode  horseback, 
and  Wygant  went  in  the  wagon.  I rode  one  of  the 
horses  that  I bought  at  Fort  Bayard  when  I reported 
for  duty  as  adjutant,  and  Gurney  rode  a pony  that  he 
rented  for  the  entire  hunting  trip  for  $15,  with  the 
privilege  of  buying  the  horse  for  $15  more  at  the  end 
of  the  trip.  The  pony  was  easily  worth  $75  at  present 
day  prices. 

We  headed  towards  old  Fort  Bridger,  Utah,  where 
Albert  Sydney  Johnston’s  army  wintered  during  the 
troubles  with  Utah  in  1857-8.  About  the  second  or 
third  night  out  from  Fort  Douglas,  we  talked  with  a 
very  pleasant  postmaster  who  had  three  years  before 
hunted  in  the  neighborhood  of  Fish  Lake,  in  Wyoming 
but  close  to  the  Idaho  line,  and  that  gentleman  gave 
us  such  a glowing  description  of  what  he  saw  and  did 
that  we  changed  our  minds.  Our  informant  had 
killed  bears,  elks  and  deer,  besides  catching  all  the  big 
mountain  trout  that  he  wished. 

So  we  went  to  Fish  Lake,  and  found  the  water  and 
the  fish  as  described,  also  the  grouse,  but  we  also 
found  what  our  Mormon  friend  had  not  seen  there, 
and  our  hunt  was  not  what  we  had  hoped  for.  Great 
flocks  of  sheep  start  every  spring  from  southern  Utah, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


243 


graze  northward  during  the  summer  and  finally  reach 
the  country  immediately  south  of  Jackson’s  Hole, 
which  is  just  south  of  Yellowstone  Park.  Sometime 
in  September  these  sheep  start  back  home,  grazing 
as  they  go,  but  they  stay  north  long  enough  to  drive 
away  from  the  country  grazed  over  all  game  animals, 
except,  perhaps,  those  of  the  cat  tribes  that  live  to 
some  extent  upon  the  sheep  themselves.  So,  we  found 
no  cloven  footed  game,  nor  bears,  the  sheep  having 
eaten  up  all  the  food  which  such  animals  depended 
upon,  but  birds  and  fish  were  plentiful. 

Fish  Lake  was  about  three  miles  long  and  about  400 
yards  wide  at  its  widest  part.  It  had  been  formed  by 
the  damming  up  of  a bold  mountain  stream,  this 
damming  having  occurred  during  some  upheaval  of 
nature  long,  long  time  ago.  Right  across  the  stream 
and  hundreds  of  feet  high  and  half  a mile  long,  was 
this  immense  dam.  But,  notwithstanding  the  thick- 
ness of  the  dam,  the  water  went  on  through,  and  our 
camp  was  at  the  confluence  of  that  creek  and  a 
bigger  one  which  our  road  had  been  following. 

Gurney  and  some  of  the  men,  assisted  by  Wygant, 
caught  lots  of  beautiful  spotted  mountain  trout  about 
two  pounds  each. 

We  had  trout  every  day  at  every  meal,  after  catch- 
ing the  first  fish,  and  when  we  started  home  we  carried 
with  us  enough  for  a couple  of  days’  eating.  Each  of 
us  ate  at  each  meal  two  of  those  fine  trout.  The 
grouse  found  there,  and  called  blue  grouse,  pine  hen 
and  fool  hen  were  very  abundant,  and  we  killed 
a good  many,  also  a few  ducks,  but  we  could  not  find 
a spot  anywhere  which  had  not  been  tramped  over 
by  sheep. 

Several  times  I was  much  disappointed  to  find,  after 


244 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


climbing  for  hours  to  get  to  a pretty  spot,  that  sheep 
had  been  there  before  me  and  had  spoiled  the  grazing 
for  all  cloven  footed  animals.  Several  times  Gurney 
urged  me  to  go  with  him,  using  one  of  the  wagon  mules 
as  Price  and  I did  once  with  Strat  Biddle  to  do  the 
scientific  packing  for  us,  and  I have  always  regretted 
that  I did  not  do  so.  We  should  have  packed  one  or 
two  mules  with  the  necessary  camp  articles  for  three 
or  four  days  hunting,  and  then  we  should  have  struck 
out  for  farther  north,  but  for  some  reason  which 
seemed  good  at  the  time  we  did  not  do  so. 

We  should  have,  at  least,  ridden  off  on  our  horses 
with  what  we  could  carry  behind  us,  and  have  stayed 
out  one  night,  but  we  did  not  even  do  that.  I have 
never  forgiven  myself.  We  returned  home  much 
disappointed,  but  en  route  we  succeeded  in  killing 
quite  a number  of  fine  birds,  including  willow  grouse, 
sage  chickens,  ducks  and  one  goose,  the  biggest  I ever 
saw.  We  were  28  days  absent  on  what  should  have 
been  the  finest  hunt  of  my  life,  and  it  would  have 
been,  but  for  those  sheep  which  had  been  everywhere. 

At  Fort  Douglas,  in  our  quarters,  we  gave  up  one 
room  to  the  boys  as  a play  room.  There  they  kept  all 
the  play  toys  of  every  description,  and  they  spent 
much  of  their  time  in  that  room,  especially  in  the 
winter,  amusing  themselves  with  their  various  toys 
and  picture  books.  In  addition,  I was  teaching  the 
elder  boy  to  read  and  write,  while  the  little  fellow  lis- 
tened and  absorbed  much  from  that.  From  picture 
books  and  books  about  animals  I explained  about 
many  of  the  most  interesting  animals  and  birds  of  the 
world,  and  from  books  of  adventure  and  those  concern- 
ing the  deeds  of  daring  and  brave  men  I selected 
interesting  passages  and  read  them  aloud  time  and 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


245 


time  again,  so  as  to  compel  my  boys  to  remember.  Of 
Andrew  Jackson,  David  Crockett  and  many  other 
such  men  I told  them  all  the  stories  I could  find,  and 
we  wore  out  one  copy  of  “Uncle  Remus.” 

The  boys  remembered  much  of  what  I had  told  and 
read  to  them,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  two  following 
illustrations. 

Of  Andrew  Jackson  I told  many  times  about  his 
duel  with  Charles  Dickinson,  and  of  his  fight  with,  and 
attempted  horse  whipping  of,  Thomas  H.  Benton,  at 
Nashville,  and  how  Benton  gave  Jackson  that  danger- 
ous wound  which  almost  prevented  the  latter  from 
commanding  the  Tennessee  militia  and  volunteers  in 
the  celebrated  campaign  against  the  Creek  Indians. 
My  description  included  the  part  played  by  Jackson’s 
good  friend,  General  Coffee. 

One  day,  during  the  winter  of  1896-7,  while  the 
boys  were  busy  in  their  play  room,  their  mother 
happened  to  pass  in  front  of  the  door,  which  was 
partly  open.  Hearing  them  talking  in  rather  an 
animated  manner  she  stopped  and  listened,  and  this 
was  what  she  saw  and  heard. 

The  boys  were  standing  up.  Carey  had  in  his  hand 
something  which  he  apparently  intended  should 
represent  a whip,  and  he  said,  “Good  morning,  Sir. 
I have  come  to  horsewhip  you,  Mr.  Benton.” 

Evidently  the  younger  brother  did  not  like  the  idea 
of  receiving  the  rough  treatment  which  seemed  to 
threaten  him,  and  he  was  equal  to  the  occasion,  for  he 
replied,  “No,  no,  I’m  not  Tom  Benton,  I’ll  be  your 
Coffee.” 

It  will  be  remembered  that  on  that  occasion,  Gen. 
Coffee  accompanied  Gen.  Jackson,  took  part  in  the 
general  mixup  and  saved  the  life  of  his  chief  and  best 


246 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


friend.  Mitchell  got  no  cowhiding  from  his  big 
brother  that  day. 

Again,  several  years  later,  I took  both  boys  to  see 
that  fine  light  opera  “Robin  Hood,”  in  New  York,  and 
we  listened  to  the  very  entertaining  performance  given 
by  the  great  theatrical  company  of  many  years  ago, 
with  Barnaby  and  others  in  it.  After  listening  nearly 
through,  the  big  boy  remarked,  “He  didn’t  follow  the 
book,  that  man  wasn’t  a coward,  for  he  went  out  to 
fight.”  He  remembered  well  what  his  little  book  said 
about  it. 

In  Salt  Lake  City  there  were  several  places  where  we 
could  see  some  fine  specimens  of  heads  and  pelts  of 
wild  animals,  and  I took  much  pleasure  taking  the 
boys  to  examine  the  interesting  specimens.  From  their 
books  and  those  specimens  they  got  to  know  each 
head  and  picture.  They  could  distinguish  the  moose 
from  the  elk  and  the  beaver  from  the  otter,  and  give 
the  reason  in  each  case. 

On  Thanksgiving  Day,  in  1897,  with  my  permission, 
a number  of  the  best  shots  in  my  company  went  to 
town  and  won  a lot  of  turkeys  from  the  civilians  by 
their  good  shooting,  taking  their  service  rifles  with 
them.  On  Xmas  day  I found  myself  alone  in  the 
house  about  4 p.m.,  excepting  the  big  boy,  and  I 
happened  to  remember  that  I had  given  permission  to 
my  good  shots  to  go  again  and  try  for  turkeys.  I put 
several  cartridges  in  my  pocket,  called  my  son  Carey, 
and  then  we  went  to  hunt  for  the  place  where  the 
shooting  for  turkeys  was  going  on.  After  much 
inquiry  and  a good  deal  of  travel,  we  found  the  place. 
They  were  having  a hard  time  getting  the  civilians  to 
shoot  against  my  men.  To  fill  out  the  required 
number,  and  to  keep  the  ball  rolling,  I bought  two 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


247 


chances  for  50  cents,  then  I borrowed  a soldier’s  rifle, 
shot  against  my  own  men,  and  won,  both  my  shots 
being  better  than  all  the  others.  After  half  an  hour 
or  so,  I had  to  join  in  again,  in  order  to  make  the 
necessary  number  taking  and  paying  chances,  each 
turkey  being  valued  at  $2.,  and  again  I won  a turkey. 
I had  spent  one  dollar,  and  had  won  two  live  turkeys, 
and  had  the  satisfaction  of  having  beaten  some  of  the 
best  shots  in  the  24th  Infantry  in  shooting  with  their 
own  rifles.  My  own  men  would  gladly  have  allowed 
me  to  win  one  turkey,  but  not  two  in  succession. 
They  tried  hard,  always,  to  beat  me  shooting,  and 
some  of  them  did  it. 

We  enjoyed  our  service  at  Fort  Douglas  very  much. 
The  bathing  in  the  lake  was  something  wonderful. 
That  water  is  so  strong  and  pungent  that  it  really 
hurts  the  eye  if  it  gets  in,  and  it  is  so  buoyant  that  one 
can  hardly  sink  in  it.  I could  lie  on  my  back  motion- 
less as  long  as  I pleased,  even  with  my  small  boy  sitting 
on  my  chest.  Sometimes  our  mixed  party  of  officers 
and  ladies  would  amuse  themselves  by  lying  on  their 
backs,  each  with  toes  under  the  armpits  of  some  other, 
and  holding  under  our  own  armpits  the  toes  of  some 
one  else,  and  then  moving  about  in  the  water,  like  a 
snake.  After  a swim  in  that  water  our  appetites  were 
ravenous,  and  our  lunches  disappeared  rapidly. 

Among  the  civilians  at  Salt  Lake  City  I enjoyed 
the  acquaintance  of  the  Browning  brothers  very  much 
indeed,  especially  that  of  the  great  inventor.  My  old- 
time  friend,  Capt.  Geo.  Albee.,  U.  S.  Army,  Retired, 
the  same  man  that  was  my  stage  companion  from  Fort 
Ringgold  to  Laredo  in  December,  1879,  wrote  to  me  as 
soon  as  he  knew  of  my  going  to  Fort  Douglas.  For 
many  years  he  had  been  an  expert  in  the  Winchester 


248 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Small  Arms  Co.,  and  he  knew  of  my  love  for  a good 
rifle.  Albee  wrote,  “Be  sure  to  hunt  up  the  inventor, 
Browning;  he  knows  more  about  a rifle  than  any  man  I 
ever  met.”  I frequently  visited  the  big  store  of  the 
Browning  Brothers  in  Salt  Lake  City,  where  I was 
always  sure  to  meet  at  least  one  of  the  brothers.  They 
had  another  store  at  Ogden,  and  sometimes  the  in- 
ventor was  at  one  place,  and  again  at  the  other.  I had 
many  talks  with  two  of  the  brothers,  especially  the 
inventor.  I saw  and  talked  with  the  inventor  just 
prior  to  that  trip  sometime  in  1897,  and  he  told  me 
that  he  was  not  going  to  sell  his  automatic  pistol 
outright  to  any  firm,  that  he  was  tired  of  doing  that, 
having  furnished  for  ten  years  to  the  Winchester  Small 
Arms  Co.  practically  all  their  improvements  in  small 
arms.  He  said  that  he  was  going  to  retain  a string  on 
his  automatic  pistol.  I hunted  him  up  again,  as  soon 
as  he  had  returned  from  his  trip.  He  said  that  he  had 
retained  a royalty  in  selling  to  the  Colts  Small  Arms 
Co.,  but  that  in  Europe  had  to  sell  outright,  and  he 
sold  to  a Liege  firm.  We  frequently  see  specimens 
from  that  firm.  With  his  automatic  rifle  and  his 
machine  gun  he  gave  us  weapons  in  the  World  War 
which  were  superior  to  any  in  the  hands  of  the  Ger- 
mans. He  is  liable  to  still  further  distinguish  himself 
by  great  inventions  in  firearms. 

We  grew  to  be  very  fond  of  our  civilian  friends  in  the 
city.  They  had  grown  to  like  us,  too,  and  they  had 
reconsidered  their  opinion  regarding  colored  troops. 
The  24th  Infantry  stood  very  high  in  Salt  Lake  City 
when  the  order  came,  starting  us  to  Chickamauga  Park 
Ga.,  on  the  21st  of  April,  1898. 


CHAPTER  IX 


I have  not  heard  of  such  an  ovation  as  we  received 
as  we  left  for  the  Spanish  War.  Evidently  the  people 
of  Salt  Lake  City  had  very  greatly  changed  their 
ideas  relative  to  at  least  one  colored  regiment.  We 
left  our  families  at  Fort  Douglas,  and  some  of  our 
crowd  never  returned. 

I had  no  doubt  that  I would  win  a brigadier  general’s 
star,  and  I suppose  that  others  were  equally  hopeful. 
I firmly  believed  that  mine  was  the  best  company  in 
the  24th  Infantry,  and  our  regiment  the  best  in  the 
service.  We  had  been  working  hard  and  consistently 
for  many  years,  and  the  result  seemed  to  satisfy  our 
expectations.  Whenever  and  wherever  stationed  with 
other  troops,  we  felt  better  drilled  and  better 
disciplined. 

I considered  as  sure  of  promotion  the  officer  who 
should  command  the  regiment  in  battle,  and  I told  my 
colonel  so. 

As  we  passed  through  several  states  en  route  to 
Chickamauga  Park  it  was  instructive  to  note  the 
sentiments  of  the  people  as  shown  by  the  mottos  and 
inscriptions  everywhere.  I saw  no  mention  of  the 
“poor  Cuban,”  but  many  times  I read  “Remember 
the  Maine.”  We  passed  through  Memphis,  Tenn., 
and  northern  Mississippi  as  we  travelled  towards 
Chattanooga.  About  8 p.m.,  after  leaving  Memphis, 

249 


250 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I waked  up  from  a short  sleep  and  noticed  that  we  had 
stopped.  I went  outside  and  saw  at  the  small  station 
several  civilians  and  a party  of  girls  with  flowers.  I 
inquired  of  the  nearest  civilian  where  we  were,  and  he 
informed  me  that  we  were  at  Coldwater,  Miss.  I 
then  remembered  that  we  had  lived  in  north 
Mississippi,  and  I thought  that  the  name  “Cold- 
water”  sounded  familiar  to  me,  so  I then  asked  how 
far  we  were  from  Memphis,  and  learned  that  it  was 
only  25  or  30  miles,  which  cleared  up  my  ideas  com- 
pletely. I remembered  names  of  people  and  places 
connected  with  my  childhood  in  that  immediate 
vicinity. 

I remarked  that  I used  to  live  nearby.  The  civilian 
was  not  much  interested  as  he  inquired  as  to  when  and 
where.  I told  him  that  I was  born  at  Hernando,  and 
had  lived  at  Center  Hill,  where  there  used  to  be  good 
schools.  This  brought  from  him,  “Indeed?”  “Yes,” 
I continued,  “there  was  a little  railroad  station  only 
four  or  five  miles  from  here  called  “Brays  Station,” 
and  Center  Hill  is  only  three  or  four  miles  from  there, 
and  there  is  a Coldwater  Creek  and  a Nonconna  Creek 
close  to  Center  Hill.” 

And  when  he  inquired  as  to  whether  I remembered 
the  name  of  any  man  or  family  about  there  I said, 
“Yes,  a big  boy  named  Bob  Paine,  seven  or  eight 
years  older  than  I was,  used  to  allow  me  to  follow  him 
when  hunting,”  and  then  I told  the  man  my  father’s 
name,  and  that  he  had  been  for  years  the  leading 
Baptist  preacher  and  teacher  in  that  section. 

“Come  here,  Sis,”  the  man  called  out  to  one  of  the 
girls,  “this  man  is  one  of  us,  give  him  your  flowers,” 
and  in  this  manner  I became  the  recipient  of  about 
the  only  flowers  given  to  colored  troops  at  that  station. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


251 


At  some  small  station  that  night  I took  a big  bottle 
of  whiskey  from  an  enlisted  man,  and  threw  it  away, 
and  afterwards  I learned  that  the  liquor  belonged  to 
one  of  our  young  officers.  It  served  him  right. 

At  Chickamauga  Park  we  found  many  other  regi- 
ments of  regulars,  all  under  the  command  of  General 
John  R.  Brooke.  We  saw  there  an  unusually  fine 
looking  body  of  men,  in  excellent  condition  as  far  as  I 
could  determine.  During  our  two  weeks’  stay  there 
we  were  busy  drilling,  and  while  marching  my  com- 
pany in  skirmish  line  all  over  the  great  battle  field  of 
Chickamauga  we  halted  many  times  to  examine  the 
battle  monuments.  Snodgrass  Hill,  where  General 
George  H.  Thomas  made  his  famous  stand,  was  easily 
distinguishable  as  a most  important  position.  I made 
no  study  of  the  battle  field,  but  I was  certainly  very 
much  interested  in  noting  the  various  locations  and 
the  monuments  found  there. 

About  the  first  of  May  the  regiment  went  to  Tampa, 
Fla.,  where  we  drilled  more  and  enjoyed  the  heat  less. 
Our  comrades  back  at  Chickamauga  thought  that  we 
were  going  to  Cuba  ahead  of  them,  and  they  envied 
us  our  good  luck. 

At  Tampa  Bay  Hotel  I frequently  swam  in  the  big 
pool,  surrounded  by  many  enlisted  men,  and  some- 
times a few  officers.  I looked  hard  at  the  faces  of 
those  men  in  the  water,  and  it  was  impossible  to  pick 
out  the  officers,  all  being  strangers.  I saw  our  Ameri- 
can soldiers  on  the  streets  all  the  time,  and  I admired 
them  as  I had  never  done  before.  I then  remarked 
to  some  of  our  24th  Infantry  officers,  “I  am  not  sure 
that  we  have  not  been  sleeping,  just  a little.  These 
men  are  at  least  our  equals  as  soldiers.” 

My  2nd  Lieutenant,  J.  N.  Augustin,  Jr.,  was  from 


252 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


New  Orleans,  and  he  received  a letter  from  his  father 
telling  him  to  be  sure  to  look  up  Alphonse  Denis  in 
Tampa.  Mr.  Denis  was  also  from  New  Orleans,  and 
an  old  friend  of  the  Augustin  family.  The  young  man 
was  prompt  to  comply  with  his  father’s  request,  and 
soon  he  had  several  of  us  with  him  at  the  residence  of 
his  friend  where  we  enjoyed  most  delightful  hospitality. 
My  lieutenants  messed  with  me,  and  twice  the  Denis 
family  furnished  us  with  a complete  dinner,  hot  from 
the  Denis  kitchen,  once  a turkey  dinner,  and  the  next 
time  a fish  dinner,  each  time  including  the  best 
vegetables  of  the  season.  I was  again  very  glad 
to  have  young  Augustin  for  my  lieutenant. 

Mrs.  Denis  was  Spanish,  and  had  father  and 
brothers  in  Havana,  in  the  Spanish  army.  I got 
from  her  the  home  address  of  her  father  in  Havana, 
and  promised  to  protect  it  when  we  entered  that  city. 
I firmly  believed  that  we  would  be  in  the  besieging 
army  around  Havana. 

Mrs.  Denis  was  very  bright,  and  she  held  her  own 
in  talking  with  us  about  the  war.  On  one  occasion 
an  officer  said,  “We  don’t  want  your  little  island,  we 
don’t  need  it.” 

Quick  as  thought  she  asked,  “I  suppose  you  never 
did  want  Cuba?”  To  this  the  officer  replied,  “No,  of 
course  not,  what  should  we  want  it  for?” 

“ Wait  a minute,”  said  Mrs.  Denis,  and  in  less  than  a 
minute  she  brought  from  another  room  an  old  official- 
looking paper.  “Now,  read  that,  and  see  if  the 
United  States  never  wanted  Cuba.” 

We  passed  the  paper  around  and  were  very  much 
interested,  and  then  the  same  officer  remarked,  “Well, 
our  President  may  have  wanted  Cuba  then,  but  we 
don’t  want  it  now.” 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


253 


The  paper,  as  I remember  it,  was  the  original  of  a 
letter  addressed  to  Pierre  Soule,  our  former  Minister 
to  Spain,  and  it  was  signed  by  James  Buchanan,  then 
Secretary  of  State.  The  letter  directed  Mr.  Soule  to 
offer  Spain  two  hundred  million  dollars  for  the  island 
of  Cuba. 

“Now,  what  do  you  think  ? Did  you  never  want 
Cuba?”  We  had  to  acknowledged  that  we  had  no 
reply  to  make.  We  had  not  read  that  letter  in  our 
school  history,  nor  in  any  other. 

While  waiting  at  Tampa  we  watched  very  closely 
the  progress  of  the  Bills  in  Congress  affecting  the 
Army,  one  of  which  provided  for  raising  ten  regiments 
of  United  States  Volunteer  Infantry,  and  two  of 
Engineers.  The  infantry  regiments  were  afterwards 
called  “immunes.”  I never  heard  that  the  Engineers 
were  called  by  that  misnomer. 

One  night,  while  talking  with  Capt.  Dodge  and  other 
officers  of  the  regiment,  I learned,  or  was  reminded, 
that  the  Bill  had  been  passed,  and  that  six  colonels 
had  been  appointed.  I said  nothing  of  my  intentions, 
but  that  same  night  I wrote  my  official  application  for 
the  colonelcy  of  one  of  those  regiments,  worded  like 
this: 

“I  have  the  honor  to  request  that  I may  be  appoint- 
ed colonel  of  one  of  the  regiments  of  United  States 
Volunteer  Infantry,  just  authorized  by  Congress.  My 
record  of  over  twenty  years’  service  is  in  your  office.” 

Early  the  next  morning  I took  my  letter  to  the 
regimental  commander,  Lieut.  Col.  Liscum,  and  got 
from  him  a very  strong  endorsement  containing  words 
like  these:  “I  do  not  know  of  any  officer  who  is  better 


254 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


qualified  than  Capt.  Crane  to  quickly  put  a regiment 
of  volunteers  in  good  shape.” 

I then  carried  the  paper  to  my  brigade  commander, 
Col.  J.  F.  Kent,  who  also  gave  me  a very  favorable 
endorsement.  Then  I took  the  paper  the  same 
afternoon  to  the  division  commander,  my  former 
regimental  commander,  General  W.  R.  Shafter,  and 
got  his  strong  backing.  Then  I hurried  to  mail  the 
letter  myself,  before  returning  to  camp. 

I had  done  some  quick  reasoning  regarding  the 
chances  of  success.  I said  to  myself  that  my  letter 
can  do  me  no  harm,  and  that  I would  hardly  ever 
again  have  good  friends  with  power  to  help  me  equal 
to  what  then  offered  themselves.  Without  belittling 
the  weight  of  the  strong  endorsements  given  my 
application  I built  largely  on  the  fact  that  my  former 
captain,  then  Adjutant  General  of  the  Army,  was  also 
my  good  friend. 

This  was  about  May  28,  1898,  and  the  morning 
after  I forwarded  my  application  two  more  colonels 
were  appointed,  leaving  only  two  vacancies  for  me  to 
fight  for.  In  48  hours  I received  a telegram  from  the 
Adjutant  General  of  the  Army  saying  that  I had  been 
appointed  colonel  of  the  9th  United  States  Volunteer 
Infantry.  Another  telegram  in  a few  hours  directed 
me  to  proceed  immediately  to  New  Orleans,  there  to 
raise,  organize  and  equip  my  regiment.  Before  doing 
this  I will  say  a little  more  about  my  old  regiment, 
the  24th  Infantry. 

My  entire  regimental  service  had  been  with  that 
colored  regiment.  When  I joined  it  in  1877  the 
regiment  was  under  a cloud,  and  had  been  criticized 
in  Congressional  Records,  and  we  officers  felt  very 
keenly  our  status,  and  we  worked  the  harder  to  re- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


255 


trieve  the  reputation  of  the  regiment.  We  finally 
succeeded,  by  steady  and  persistent  effort,  assisted 
to  some  extent  by  the  result  of  several  general  court 
martial  trials.  These  trials  eliminated  some  un- 
desirables. 

Quite  a number  of  young  officers,  on  first  assign- 
ment, side  stepped  the  colored  regiments,  and  I, 
myself,  was  told  in  1883  at  Fort  Monroe  by  a young 
lieutenant  of  artillery  that  he  would  “rather  be  a 
second  lieutenant  of  artillery  than  a captain  of 
niggers.”  I replied  that  I would  gladly  accept  a 
higher  commission  in  a regiment  of  monkeys,  if  those 
monkeys  were  Uncle  Sam’s  regulars. 

Wherever  we  went  we  officers  found  ourselves  at  a 
great  disadvantage,  socially,  as  compared  with  the 
officers  of  white  troops. 

But  we  worked  on,  and  we  made  our  regiment 
second  to  none  in  soldierly  efficiency,  and  with  hardly 
an  equal  in  discipline  and  good  conduct.  This  was 
the  24th  Infantry  in  old  times. 

The  negro  soldier  loves  his  officer,  if  that  officer 
shows  even  the  minimum  of  kindness,  and  he  will 
give  the  maximum  of  devotion  and  hard  work  if  his 
officer  will,  by  his  own  efforts,  prove  that  he  knows 
his  business  and  intends  to  have  it  properly  done. 
The  colored  soldier  needs  more,  and  more  careful, 
looking  after  than  his  white  comrade  does.  He  is  not 
so  self-reliant  and  confident,  but  he  follows  as  fast 
and  as  far  as  any  one,  white  or  black,  can  be  found  to 
lead,  or  even  accompany  him. 

Hard  work,  hard  marching,  danger  and  disease,  all 
these  he  will  endure  triumphantly  and  cheerfully  if  he 
feels  that  he  is  being  treated  justly,  and  that  his 
officers  know  their  business. 


256 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


In  the  24th  Infantry  I had  some  fine  regimental 
commanders.  The  man  who  was  selected  to  lead  our 
army  to  Santiago  was  no  ordinary  soldier.  Indeed,  he 
was  the  most  energetic  fat  man  that  I ever  saw,  and 
his  knowledge  of  military  routine  work  was  wonderful. 
When  we  of  the  24th  Infantry  heard  that  Shafter  was 
to  command  us  we  were  well  satisfied.  I speak  of  the 
officers  about  us  at  that  time. 

Zenas  R.  Bliss  used  to  say  that  he  had  commanded  a 
military  post  longer  than  any  other  officer  in  the  Army 
at  that  time,  and  I know  that  his  command  always 
showed  that  he  had  profited  by  such  experience. 

Jacob  Ford  Kent  was  the  “salt  of  the  earth,”  in 
every  way,  both  socially  and  officially,  and  he  was  a 
most  chivalrous  and  efficient  officer. 

I take  off  my  hat  to  all  three  of  those  men,  and  I 
consider  lucky  the  body  of  men  that  receives  as 
commanding  officer  a man  as  good  as  any  one  of  them. 

Having  received  definite  orders  to  go  to  New 
Orleans  and  raise,  organize  and  equip  my  regiment 
of  “immunes”  I wasted  no  time  in  great  preparations, 
but  I quickly  and  quietly  left,  about  the  first  of  June, 
and  on  the  road  via  Mobile  we  met  a train  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  filled  with  shouting  soldiers. 
I was  informed  that  we  had  met  the  “Rough  Riders.” 


CHAPTER  X 


Having  arrived  at  New  Orleans  I promptly  learned 
all  I could  about  what  I had  to  do  and  how  to  do  it, 
and  ascertained  that  Duncan  B.  Hood,  a son  of 
General  John  B.  Hood,  of  the  old-time  Confederate 
army,  was  in  the  city  raising  the  2nd  Immunes,  and 
that  he  had  some  seven  or  eight  hundred  men  in  camp 
some  miles  from  the  city.  From  Hood  I learned  all  I 
could,  and  I decided  not  to  pursue  the  same  plan  of 
raising  my  regiment. 

I also  found  there  Capt.  F.  H.  Edmunds,  1st  In- 
fantry, who  had  marched  with  me  from  Pena  Colorada 
to  Fort  Davis,  Texas,  in  September,  1880.  He  had 
been  ordered  there  to  muster  in  Hood’s  regiment, 
and  was  waiting  to  do  it.  Hood’s  intention  was  to  get 
all  the  necessary  men  in  camp  at  the  same  time,  and 
then  muster  them  in  as  a regiment,  all  at  the  same 
time.  I heard  from  several  sources  that  men  would  go 
and  spend  a few  days  in  his  camp  and  then  leave, 
thus  delaying  the  date  of  muster  in. 

I determined  to  pursue  a different  plan,  and  to 
muster  in  my  companies  separately  as  fast  as  I could 
get  together  enough  men  to  form  one  company.  I am 
sure  that  my  plan  was  the  better. 

By  telegraphing  to  Washington  each  time  I needed 
something  I got  all  my  wants  supplied.  At  my 
request  I was  authorized  to  appoint  my  regimental 

257 


258 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


quartermaster,  hire  a surgeon  and  an  office,  and  then 
to  proceed  with  the  examination  of  applicants,  and  I 
obtained  authority  to  have  Capt.  Edmunds  as  my 
muster-in  officer  also. 

I was  authorized  to  obtain  from  the  quartermaster 
on  duty  at  New  Orleans  all  manner  of  quartermaster 
supplies,  and  subsistence  stores  from  an  officer  of 
that  department  also  on  duty  there.  Arms,  am- 
munition and  other  ordnance  stores  were,  I believe, 
furnished  me  on  application,  from  Rock  Island,  111. 

After  being  in  New  Orleans  several  days  I learned 
by  telegraph  from  Washington  that  my  regiment 
was  to  have  colored  lieutenants  of  companies,  as  well 
as  colored  enlisted  men.  I promptly  wired  to  Wash- 
ington that  with  colored  lieutenants  of  companies 
it  would  be  difficult  to  get  good  white  captains,  and  I 
told  the  truth,  as  proven  very  soon.  However,  I was 
directed  to  go  ahead,  and  I was  informed  that  the 
difficulty  of  getting  good  white  captains  would  not 
be  as  great  as  I feared,  but  results  proved  that  I was 
correct  in  my  statement. 

One  of  my  first  troubles  was  with  the  political 
machine  that  ran  things  in  New  Orleans.  I was  very 
soon  visited  by  a veteran  of  the  Civil  War  who  told  me 
of  his  qualifications  to  perform  the  duties  of  field 
officer,  and  he  offered  me  a regiment,  all  ready,  except 
that  it  lacked  a colonel.  I had  more  than  one  visit 
from  others  who  apparently  belonged  (like  the  old 
timer)  to  a regiment  which  they  claimed  existed  then 
and  there  in  New  Orleans.  I have  never  believed  that 
statement,  excepting  so  much  as  may  have  referred  to 
the  names  of  men  who  desired  to  be  officers,  also  the 
names  of  enough  enlisted  men  to  represent  very 
incomplete  companies. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


259 


Most  of  these  men  that  came  to  me  were  white,  but 
one  colored  man  came  and  told  me  of  his  qualifications 
for  the  very  important  position  of  regimental  surgeon. 
Several  times  I was  told  how  difficult  it  would  be  to 
raise  a regiment  there  without  the  assistance  of  the 
men  that,  in  my  opinion,  then  composed  the  political 
machine  of  New  Orleans,  one  man  insisting  that  it 
would  be  impossible. 

I had  been  warned  by  General  Corbin  to  keep  clear 
of  politics  down  there.  On  one  occasion  I received  a 
telegram  from  Washington,  apparently  signed  by  one 
U.  S.  Senator,  and  four  Congressmen,  all  of  one  state, 
and  recommending  a particular  old  relic  of  the  Civil 
War  for  the  position  of  field  officer  of  my  regiment.  I 
paid  no  attention  whatever  to  the  telegram,  waiting  in 
vain  for  the  gentlemen  who  had  recommended  the  old 
veteran  for  high  position  to  follow  it  up,  and  I knew 
that  if  they  did  not  do  so,  they  were  merely  paying  a 
political  debt  in  their  joint  telegram  and  had  no 
intention  of  doing  any  more. 

Coolly  and  politely  I told  the  political  machine  that 
I had  been  ordered  to  New  Orleans  to  raise  a regiment, 
not  to  accept  one  already  raised,  and  that  I expected  to 
designate  my  own  officers,  that  the  regiment,  claimed 
by  them  to  be  ready  for  me,  would  not  in  any  sense 
be  my  regiment,  for  that  by  their  political  influence 
they  would  continually  be  interfering  with  the  admin- 
istration of  my  regiment.  I did  not  inform  them  that 
I had  been  warned  from  Washington  to  beware  of  just 
such  a condition. 

The  result  was  the  promise  of  practically  a boycott, 
if  not  of  active  opposition,  but  I proceeded  to  raise 
and  organize  my  regiment  of  immunes.  As  predicted 
in  my  telegram  to  the  Adjutant  General  of  the  Army, 


260 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


applications  from  desirable  men  for  white  captaincies 
were  slow  in  coming  in.  I was  compelled  to  accept,  in 
some  instances,  captains  that  I did  not  consider 
competent,  rather  than  wait  for  better  men  and  con- 
sume so  much  time  as  to  cause  an  inquiry  from 
Washington  as  to  reason  for  delay. 

I applied  twice  for  my  classmate  Augur  to  be  my 
lieutenant  colonel,  and  in  this  connection  I wish  to 
state  that  he  knew  about  it  and  did  not  object. 
Evidently  his  viewpoint  had  changed  somewhat. 
Failing  to  get  Augur  I then  requested,  in  succession, 
former  graduates  and  ex-officers  Harry  Landon, 
Willard  Young,  Calvin  Esterly,  and  Charles  Bradley, 
the  last  two  being  my  own  classmates  and  at  that  time 
in  civil  life.  I tried  also  to  get  young  Augustin  as  one 
of  my  majors.  I was  given  an  ex-captain  of  regulars 
as  my  lieutenant  colonel,  and  I could  get  none  of  those 
gentlemen  named.  Each  additional  officer  from  the 
regulars,  in  such  a regiment,  is  worth  his  weight  in 
valuable  jewels,  as  I learned  by  the  lack  of  such  help. 

On  being  ordered  to  New  Orleans  I did  not,  at  first, 
know  that  I would  be  required  to  hunt  up  practically 
all  my  officers,  but  that  does  not  clear  my  conscience. 
I should  have  immediately  reached  out  and  called  to 
my  assistance  the  sons  of  some  of  my  brother  officers, 
some  graduates  of  military  schools,  also  many  old 
meritorious  noncommissioned  officers.  My  con- 
science is  not  clear.  Not  only  did  I,  for  a while,  forget 
about  my  brother  officers  having  sons  and  my  regiment 
having  meritorious  noncommissioned  officers,  but  I 
had  some  queer  scruples  about  robbing  my  regiment  of 
such  fine  material  right  on  the  eve  of  battle.  It 
would  undoubtedly  have  badly  handicapped  the 
regiment  at  San  Juan  Hill.  But,  I now  know  that 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


261 


such  scruples  were  entirely  wrong.  My  duty  was  to 
raise  and  organize  my  regiment  of  brand  new  volun- 
teers the  best  and  the  quickest  I could,  and  in  that  I 
would  have  best  served  both  the  government  and 
myself.  My  immediate  duty  was  to  do  the  best  I 
could  for  the  9th  Immunes. 

However,  I did  request  of  the  War  Department  my 
best  sergeant,  John  T.  Beckam,  my  own  man  whom  I 
had  so  taught  and  instructed  in  every  way  that  he 
even  walked  and  carried  himself  as  I did.  Beckam 
was  taken  off  the  ship  at  Tampa  and  sent  to  me,  and  he 
proved  to  be  exactly  what  I expected.  I expected  he 
would  be  a jewel  of  the  first  water,  and  worth  his 
weight  in  diamonds. 

My  first  regimental  quartermaster  was  George 
Lea  Febiger,  the  son  of  John  C.  Febiger  a graduate  of 
the  Naval  Academy,  and  the  nephew  of  Col.  Lea 
Febiger,  since  retired. 

My  first  adjutant  was  Charles  Wood,  who  had  been 
two  years  at  the  Military  Academy. 

I soon  had  one  major,  Armand  G.  Romain,  whom  I 
had  selected  from  the  New  Orleans  applicants  for  that 
position.  He  was  a Louisiana  militia  officer,  of  fine 
old  French  blood,  and  a good,  reliable  soldier.  At 
that  time  an  infantry  regiment  was  allowed  only  two 
majors,  and  my  other  major  was  Duncan  B.  Harrison, 
a noted  playwright,  actor  and  athlete.  He  was  given 
me  from  Washington,  as  were  my  lieutenant  colonel, 
and  my  regimental  surgeon,  Aurelio  Pallones.  Pal- 
lones  came  from  near  Philadelphia. 

I was  directed  to  recommend  men  for  commissions 
as  officers,  and  I did  so,  and,  seeing  that  I had  to 
accept  colored  men  as  lieutenants  and  knowing  that 
practically  none  of  them  could  pass  an  examination,  I 


262 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


concluded  to  require  only  slight  examinations  from 
white  candidates  also.  Field  officers,  captains,  the 
regimental  staff  and  chaplain  were  to  be  white.  The 
lieutenants  of  companies  were  to  be  colored. 

So  we  hurried  on  with  the  physical  examinations, 
and  soon  had  several  hundred  prospective  “immunes” 
to  muster  in.  The  first  men  to  appear  for  acceptance 
were  from  one  of  the  companies  of  the  so-called 
regiment  which  I was  expected  by  the  political 
machine  to  accept  the  colonelcy  of.  I accepted  the 
former  captain  of  that  company  as  first  lieutenant  of 
the  first  company  mustered  in.  I did  this  to  break  the 
backbone  of  the  opposition  from  the  machine,  and  I 
succeeded,  and  then  I made  Beckam  first  lieutenant 
of  the  second  company.  I was  sorry  to  have  to  put 
any  other  colored  man  senior  to  Beckam. 

After  appointing  the  officers  of  a company  I had  the 
captain  submit  recommendations  for  the  appoint- 
ment of  his  noncommissioned  officers.  I did  this  with 
each  company,  in  succession. 

The  prospective  officers  and  enlisted  men  were 
notified  to  be  on  hand  at  the  office  at  a given  time, 
and  the  company  was  there  mustered  in  by  Capt. 
Edmunds,  and  it  was  then  promptly  marched  to  the 
Fair  Grounds,  the  men  pitched  their  own  tents  under 
the  supervision  of  Lieut.  Beckam,  then  they  were 
marched  to  the  canal  and  made  to  wash  themselves 
clean,  were  given  their  uniforms  and  underclothing, 
also  their  equipments,  and  finally  they  were  put  to 
work  about  their  company  streets,  cleaning  up  the 
grounds.  All  this  before  they  were  even  given  their 
first  meal,  but  that  followed  very  soon,  with  no  in- 
tentional delay. 

The  New  Orleans  physician  who  had  been  employed 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


263 


to  make  the  physicial  examinations  was  accepted  as 
junior  surgeon  of  the  regiment,  my  brother-in-law, 
James  Mitchell,  being  next  in  rank  to  Pallones  who  was 
major.  With  more  surgeons  the  examination  of 
applicants  proceeded  faster,  and  soon  other  companies 
were  mustered  in,  and  put  through  the  same  program 
as  the  first.  In  each  case  the  company  last  previously 
mustered  in,  working  under  the  direction  and  in- 
struction of  Lieut.  Beckam,  put  up  the  tents  needed 
for  the  newcomers.  In  this  way  all  obtained  an  early 
knowledge  of  tent  pitching  and  invariably  my  man 
Beckam  was  the  instructor,  and  he  never  failed  me. 

I received  offers  of  companies  from  several  places 
and  my  reply  was  always  the  same.  I would  send 
the  white  captain,  the  surgeon  and  the  mustering 
officer  to  do  the  examining  and  the  mustering  in,  and 
I would  tell  the  original  colored  captain  that,  if 
he  wished  it,  I would  accept  him  as  the  first  lieutenant 
of  the  new  company.  In  this  way  companies  were 
obtained  from  up  Red  River,  Lake  Charles,  Houston 
and  Galveston.  In  some  cases  the  former  captain  did 
not  come  with  his  men. 

I accompanied  the  three  above  named  officers  to 
Houston  and  Galveston,  Texas.  When  I arrived  at 
Houston  my  brother  Will’s  wife  hastened  to  tell  me, 
“Now,  don’t  you  take  my  Charlie.”  And  my  sister 
Annie  similarly  plead  for  her  youngest  son,  Harry 
Bondies,  when  I arrived  at  Galveston. 

At  each  place  just  named  we  remained  just  24  hours, 
and  then  we  put  a company  of  United  States  Volun- 
teers on  the  train  and  sent  it  to  New  Orleans.  The 
chances  are  that  if  my  nephews  had  been  com- 
missioned in  the  9th  Immunes  they  would  have  been 
majors  of  regulars  in  twenty  years. 


264 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


At  Galveston,  during  the  afternoon’s  physical 
examination  of  the  applicants,  a big  black  fellow  of 
uncertain  age,  who  had  just  been  accepted,  came  over 
to  my  desk  and  said,  “Mister  Charlie,  don’t  you  know 
me?  I used  to  work  for  your  pa.  My  name  is  Bev.” 
It  was  true  that  he  had  worked  for  my  father  at 
Independence,  Texas,  in  the  late  sixties  or  early 
seventies,  and  was  therefore  older  than  the  age  limit, 
thirty-five  years. 

So  I asked  him,  “How  old  are  you  Bev?” 

The  negro  smiled  broadly  and  replied,  “Nearly  35, 
Sir.”  Let  no  one  deny  the  quick  wit  of  the  negro.  I 
smiled  as  he  made  his  get  away  answer,  and  pushed 
my  inquiry  no  farther.  “Bev”  was  one  of  my  best 
men,  always  equal  to  every  task.  He  had  been  a 
soldier  of  the  Civil  War  for  a year  or  so. 

As  remarked  before,  I obtained  my  supplies  from  the 
officers  of  the  quartermaster  and  commissary  depart- 
ments then  stationed  in  New  Orleans,  but  the  former 
was  quite  old,  a very  strict  and  narrow  construer 
of  Army  Regulations  and  orders,  and  I was,  therefore, 
several  times  compelled  to  telegraph  to  Washington 
and  get  authority  for  issue  of  additional  stores  to  my 
men.  No  such  telegram  should  have  been  necessary, 
under  conditions  then  existing,  but  with  each  new 
order  from  Washington  the  old  man  seemed  really 
glad  to  allow  me  to  have  the  goods.  He  had  missed 
too  many  boats. 

The  two  companies  from  Texas  were,  I believe, 
the  last  to  be  mustered  in.  A colored  band  leader  in 
New  Orleans  applied  for  the  position  of  chief  musician, 
and  said  that  he  could  bring  a number  of  his  men  with 
him,  and  he  requested  for  the  best  two  of  them  the 
appointments  as  principal  musicians.  I gladly  ac- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


265 


cepted  his  offer,  both  for  himself  and  for  his  friends. 
With  these  three  men,  and  six  or  eight  more  from  the 
same  band,  my  regimental  band  progressed  rapidly. 
I had  the  leader  search  around  in  the  regiment  for 
musically  inclined  individuals,  and  I then  detailed  such 
men  for  instruction  in  music.  In  this  way  were 
added  a few  more  musicians,  and  long  before  we  left 
New  Orleans  the  9th  Immunes  had  quite  a respectable 
band  which  improved  from  start  to  finish. 

As  I was  returning  from  Galveston  with  the  last 
company  mustered  in,  and  when  we  were  nearing  New 
Orleans  early  that  July  morning,  the  morning  papers 
contained  the  first  news  of  the  Battle  of  San  Juan 
Hill,  and  reading  fast  while  on  the  train  I learned  that 
my  second  lieutenant,  Augustin,  was  killed,  and  that 
my  first  lieutenant,  Brett,  was  severely  wounded, 
also  that  John  Gurney,  my  hunting  comrade,  was 
killed.  The  24th  Infantry  was  hard  hit,  but  the  men 
had  made  good  our  confidence  in  them. 

After  that  it  was  difficult  to  visit  the  home  of  the 
Augustin  family,  on  Esplanade  Street,  the  center  of  the 
old  Creole  French  population  of  the  city.  But,  I went 
regularly,  just  the  same.  There  are  no  finer  people  on 
this  earth  than  those  same  Creole  French  of  New 
Orleans. 

My  regiment  being  now  practically  complete,  a 
regular  scheme  of  drill  and  other  instruction  was 
begun.  I copied  my  own  part  of  the  program  from 
Winfield  Scott’s  having  described  how  he  had  to  drill 
the  commissioned  officers  of  his  new  regiment  himself. 
I did  so,  too,  and  I began  at  the  very  beginning  of  the 
drill  book.  I organized  my  white  captains,  adjutant 
and  quartermaster  as  one  squad,  and  drilled  that 
squad  myself,  three  times  a day,  in  the  School  of  the 


266 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Soldier,  without  and  then  with  arms,  and  I had  them 
recite  twice  a day  on  what  they  were  being  taught 
practically. 

The  two  majors  similarly  drilled  and  instructed  their 
squads,  composed  of  colored  first  and  second  lieuten- 
ants, respectively.  All  the  sergeants  of  the  regiment 
were  put  into  one  big  squad,  with  my  man  Beckam, 
for  instructor,  and  again  he  did  not  fail  me.  He 
was  the  most  satisfactory  drill  master  I ever  had.  He 
knew  the  book  perfectly,  and  he  was  persistent  and 
indefatigable,  and  at  the  same  time  even  tempered  and 
patient.  I was  not  always  even  tempered  and  patient. 

It  rained  frequently,  but  only  in  short  showers,  and 
if  any  part  of  the  drill  ground  remained  uncovered  by 
water  we  surely  drilled.  In  this  way  we  made  rapid 
progress  in  the  instruction  of  the  regiment.  When- 
ever anything  was  needed  I would  telegraph  for 
authority,  which  was  always  granted.  I found  that  it 
was  not  sufficient  merely  to  impart  information  to  the 
War  Department.  What  was  wanted  was  a straight- 
out  request  or  recommendation  from  “Johnnie  on 
the  spot,”  and  to  that,  attention  was  always  paid. 

During  this  period  of  drill  and  instruction  some  of 
my  officers  began  to  show  their  unfitness,  and  some- 
times a lack  of  desire  for  military  instruction  and 
military  service.  The  resignation  of  a captain  was 
accepted,  and  then  I hastened  to  telegraph  recom- 
mendation for  the  appointment  in  his  place  of  Ned 
Markley,  the  son  of  my  old  comrade  in  the  24th  In- 
fantry. I had  to  repeat  such  recommendation,  and  to 
help  hunt  for  Ned  who  had  gone  to  Cuba  with  a small 
expedition.  He  finally  joined  us  in  Cuba,  after  much 
search  and  waiting.  He  was  found  at  Caibirien,  on 
the  north  coast  of  Cuba. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


267 


At  my  request  Gen.  Ord’s  son  Jim  was  sent  me,  and 
Gen.  Corbin  sent  his  wife’s  nephew  to  be  one  of  my 
officers,  and  one  of  Gen,  Shafter’s,  too. 

In  the  beginning,  and  for  quite  a while  longer  the 
discipline  of  my  regiment  was  most  unusual  and  lamb 
like.  I cautioned  my  officers  that  it  was  too  good  to 
last  long.  I had  never  before  seen  anything  like  it. 

Sometime  in  July  the  1st  Immunes  came  from 
Galveston  and  went  into  camp  in  the  Fair  Grounds, 
not  more  than  250  yards  from  us.  Their  discipline 
was  different  from  ours,  but  the  difference  diminished 
a good  deal  as  time  passed  and  our  men  saw  what  the 
other  men  were  doing.  On  one  or  two  occasions  at 
night  shots  were  fired  in  the  camp  of  our  neighbors, 
and  on  at  least  one  of  them  I heard  the  bullet  whistle 
over  our  camp. 

Gradually  the  conduct  of  my  men  got  worse,  and 
one  night  Major  Harrison  got  me  to  accompany  him, 
and  we  watched  some  of  my  men  amusing  themselves 
running  back  and  forth  across  sentinels’  posts,  and 
laughing  at  the  poor  sentinels’  efforts  to  prevent  them 
from  doing  so.  I had  carefully  refrained  from  issuing 
ball  cartridges,  and  now  I recognized  the  correctness 
of  my  judgment;.  I advised  the  major  to  make  no 
disturbance  about  the  crossing  of  the  sentinels’  posts, 
telling  him  that  in  my  opinion  there  would  soon  be 
something  that  could  be  caught  hold  of  and  punished. 

In  a day  or  two  I summarily  took  off  a sergeant’s 
chevrons  for  a glaring  infraction  of  discipline  which  I 
had  witnessed,  and  a little  later  one  of  my  men  was 
killed  in  the  city  by  the  police,  after  having  held  them 
at  bay  till  his  pistol  was  empty. 

The  killing  happened  in  the  morning,  and  soon  there 
was  visible  in  the  camp  of  the  9th  Immunes  a black 


268 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


cloud  on  the  faces  of  men  almost  black.  In  the  after- 
noon the  men  began  to  collect  in  small  knots  and  talk 
in  low  tones.  By  sunset  a steady  murmur  could  be 
heard,  and  about  8 p.m.,  while  I was  seated  with 
several  of  my  officers  in  front  of  the  line  of  field  officers’ 
tents,  the  steady  murmur  was  succeeded  by  louder 
and  more  rapid  talking,  and  soon  I heard,  “ Come  on, 
come  on.  Let’s  go,  let’s  go.”  I knew  that  trouble  had 
begun. 

“They  have  started  to  town,”  I said,  and  I ran  to 
my  tent.  I could  not  find  my  revolver,  and  I have 
always  been  glad  of  it,  but  I found  in  the  dark  my  old- 
time  adjutant’s  sabre,  which  I had  retained  and  was 
using  while  a field  officer.  A few  days  previous  Major 
Harrison  had  proposed  that  we  have  our  sabres 
ground,  in  anticipation  of  possible  need  of  it  when 
we  should  meet  the  Spaniards,  and  he  had  a razor  edge 
put  on  mine.  But  I had  no  thought  of  this  as  I hastily 
buckled  on  my  sabre  and  ran  to  head  off  the  men,  and 
prevent  them  from  going  to  town  and  fight  the  police 
of  New  Orleans. 

If  I had  been  absent  from  camp  that  night,  or  for 
that  hour,  the  9th  Immunes  enlisted  men  would  have 
marched  into  the  city,  fighting  the  police  and  any 
other  people  that  might  have  gotten  in  their  way,  and 
the  result  would  have  been  a long  list  of  killed  and 
wounded  soldiers  and  civilians,  to  be  promptly  fol- 
lowed by  the  disgrace  of  the  colonel  and  the  muster 
out  of  his  regiment.  No  cartridges  had  been  issued 
to  the  men,  but  they  had  been  buying  them,  and  they 
had  enough  to  cause  lots  of  trouble. 

With  sabre  in  hand  I sprang  to  the  path  which  led 
from  the  end  of  the  company  street  to  the  nearest 
gate  opening  towards  the  city.  There  was  a sentinel 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


269 


at  that  gate,  but  I knew  that  he  could  not  stop  that 
crowd.  Soon  they  appeared,  coming  on,  laughing  and 
talking  now,  and  the  head  of  the  column  had  arrived 
within  twenty  feet  of  me  before  I was  seen.  I stood  in 
the  path,  with  sabre  in  my  right  hand,  point  of  sabre 
being  at  the  height  of  a man’s  breast. 

“’Fore  God,  there’s  the  Colonel,”  said  one  of  those 
in  front. 

“Yes,”  I said,  “here’s  the  Colonel,  and  you  men  are 
not  going  to  town  to  do  up  the  police  and  disgrace  the 
regiment.  You  are  going  right  back  into  camp  and 
stay  there.  Not  a man  of  you  will  leave  camp  tonight. 
Get  back,  men!  Get  back,  now,  I say,  and  go  back 
into  camp.  Back,  I tell  you!” 

The  men  halted  and  hesitated,  those  in  rear,  seeing 
nothing  and  hearing  nothing,  crowded  on  to  the  front, 
and  some  of  them  called  out,  “Go  on,  go  on.  What’s 
the  matter  there  in  front?” 

There  were  several  hundred  men  outside  of  their 
company  streets,  and  undoubtedly  the  greater  part 
of  the  regiment  was  following.  I could  see  their 
rifles.  I stood  fast,  and  again  I repeated  what  I had 
said  at  first,  but  more  emphatically,  and  I gradually 
turned  and  pushed  background  the  end  of  the  officers’ 
line  of  tents  and  into  the  nearest  company  street,  that 
crowd  of  furious  colored  men,  armed  and  bent  on  fight- 
ing the  police  of  New  Orleans. 

I followed  them  as  they  went  back,  the  same  way 
they  had  come  out  of  their  company  streets,  and  I 
noticed  the  sullen,  angry  attitude  of  the  men  as  they 
walked  slowly  towards  their  tents.  All  the  time  I was 
talking,  and  telling  them  to  get  back  home  and  stay 
there,  but  I realized  that  I had  not  entirely  quelled 
that  ugly  rising, 


270 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I had  only  halted  it  for  a moment,  and  in  a few 
minutes  hundreds  of  infuriated  colored  soldiers  would 
be  jumping  the  fence  and  running  down  the  streets, 
bent  on  mischief  with  their  loaded  rifles.  Then  there 
came  to  me  the  lightning  quick  suggestion,  “ Give  the 
men  something  else  to  think  about.  Select  the  worst 
of  them  and  bring  this  mutiny  to  a head,  right  now,” 
and  I did  it. 

I selected  the  surliest  and  slowest  and  ugliest  look- 
ing man  in  the  nearest  company  street,  a man  who  from 
his  looks  and  bearing,  I did  not  expect  to  obey  me, 
and  then  putting  the  point  of  my  sabre  at  his  breast  I 
ordered  him  more  brusquely  and  peremptorily  to 
immediately  go  to  his  tent,  and  as  the  fellow  slowly 
and  sullenly  turned  away  from  me,  not  indicating 
whether  or  not  he  would  obey,  I struck  him  hard  at  the 
top  of  the  back  of  his  shoulder  wflth  the  edge  of  my 
sabre,  and  then  he  walked  to  his  tent  or  to  some  other 
tent.  I then  went  to  the  next  company  street,  and 
from  there  to  the  next  one,  and  at  both  places  I did 
exactly  the  same  thing,  wTith  this  exception.  While  in 
the  act  of  striking  the  third  man,  my  sabre  being  verti- 
cal and  opposite  my  left  shoulder,  I suddenly  remem- 
bered that  my  sabre  had  a razor  edge,  and  this  made 
me  change  my  stroke  and  use  the  back  of  my  sabre 
instead  of  its  edge.  Realizing  now  that  I had 
wounded  two  and  perhaps  three  of  my  men  with  that 
sharp  sabre  I had  another  lightning  quick  suggestion, 
“Now,  you  have  surely  done  it,  and  you  are  ruined 
unless  you  can  instantly  bring  their  wrong  doing,  the 
awful  meaning  of  their  mutiny,  home  to  these  men 
and  so  quickly  that  they  have  no  time  to  brood  over 
what  you  have  done.  Talk  to  them,  and  do  it 
instantly.” 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


271 


This  advice  from  my  good  angel  I instantly  fol- 
lowed. I walked  down  into  the  center  of  the  com- 
pany street  of  the  third  man  struck,  and,  peremptorily 
calling  the  men  around  me,  and  using  the  tone  of 
confident  and  outraged  authority  and  command,  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  for  some  little  distance,  I made 
the  first  speech  of  my  life. 

“Men,  I know  what  you  had  started  to  do,  and  it 
was  good  for  us  all  that  I was  in  camp  tonight.  You 
had  started  down  town  to  do  up  the  police,  and  to  kill 
a lot  of  people.  You  were  going  to  violate  the  city 
ordinances,  the  state  laws,  and,  worse  than  all,  you 
were  violating  the  laws  of  the  United  States,  the 
Articles  of  War  regarding  mutiny,  which  prescribe  the 
punishment  of  death  for  that  offence.  I happened  to 
be  on  hand,  and  I stopped  you,  and  in  doing  so  I have 
struck  several  men  with  my  sabre.  I had  a perfect 
right  to  do  it,  and  those  men  are  getting  off  easy. 
But,  I am  sure  that  you  were  put  up  to  this  by  some- 
body, and  that  is  the  man  that  I am  looking  for  now. 
I’ll  get  that  fellow  into  trouble.  Now  go  to  your 
tents  and  go  to  sleep.’’ 

Before  I had  said  more  than  a third  of  my  speech 
I heard  around  me  mutterings  like  this:  “The  Colo- 

nel’s right,  I tell  you.  He’s  right,  now,  men.” 
I knew  that  I was  winning  my  fight,  and  I went  to  the 
next  company  street,  and  then  on  to  the  next,  calling  a 
crowd  around  at  each  halt,  and  making,  as  nearly  as  I 
could,  the  same  speech.  All  this  time  I had  no  one 
with  me  except  my  brother-in-law,  Assistant  Surgeon 
James  Mitchell.  In  the  first  company  street  I noticed 
him  near  me,  with  his  little  straight  sword  in  his  hand. 
He  did  not  open  his  mouth,  but  I knew  that  I had  close 
at  hand  one  friend  and  backer  to  the  limit. 

As  we  went  together  towards  our  tent  we  passed 


272 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


by  the  hospital,  and  there  the  Major  Surgeon,  Pal- 
lones,  was  busy  sewing  up  the  cuts  made  by  my  sharp 
sabre.  A crowd  of  sullen  silent  soldiers  were  standing 
around,  sympathetic  with  the  wounded  men.  My 
suggestion  to  talk  was  still  with  me,  and  I stopped 
there  and  made  to  those  men  the  same  kind  of  a talk 
that  I had  made  in  the  company  streets,  and  then  I 
ordered  them  to  go  immediately  to  their  tents,  and  I 
waited  to  see  that  they  did  so.  I did  not  have  to 
repeat  the  order. 

So  far  as  I have  ever  heard,  not  a man  of  the  9th 
Immunes  left  camp  that  night.  None  of  the  officers 
that  I had  been  sitting  with  came  to  my  assistance, 
except  James  Mitchell.  They  may  have  gone  to  their 
companies,  and  I think  that  some  did  go  there.  The 
result  of  this  arbitrary  and  apparently  cruel  action  on 
my  part  was  to  suddenly  and  immediately  put  an 
absolute  and  final  stop  to  all  symptoms  of  a lack  of 
discipline  in  the  9th  Immunes,  and  from  that  night  till 
our  muster  out  on  May  25,  1899,  the  discipline  of  the 
regiment  could  no;  have  been  better,  with  newr  men. 

I made  no  search  for  cartridges,  I disarmed  no  one, 
I made  no  further  investigation.  The  two  wounded 
men  improved  very  rapidly.  The  surgeon  frequently 
remarked  about  the  razor  edge  of  my  sabre,  and 
claimed  that  it  even  possessed  antiseptic  properties. 

The  morning  after  the  incident  I telegraphed  to  the 
Adjutant  General  of  the  Army,  “A  soldier  of  the  9th 
Immunes  killed  yesterday  morning  by  the  New  Or- 
leans police.  Incipient  mutiny  last  night.  Prompt- 
ly quelled.”  The  War  Department  asked  me  no 
questions  about  it.  It  w^as  also  kept  out  of  the  news- 
papers, and,  so  far  as  I know,  no  mention  of  that 
night’s  incident  has  ever  appeared  in  print  anywhere. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


273 


By  my  individual  action  that  night  I saved  the  lives 
of  many  people,  prevented  disastrous  racial  trouble, 
and  averted  from  the  Army  great  scandal  and  disgrace. 
I preserved  the  honor  of  the  9th  Immunes,  and  pre- 
vented the  prompt  muster  out  of  that  regiment. 

Soon  the  1st  and  2nd  Immunes  were  ordered  to 
Santiago,  Cuba,  to  sail  on  the  same  steamer,  “The 
City  of  Berlin,”  afterwards  the  U.  S.  Army  Transport 
Meade.  The  steamer  was  not  large  enough  to  ac- 
commodate both  regiments  at  the  same  time,  and  one 
had  to  be  left  behind,  which  fell  to  the  Texas  men, 
much  to  the  delight  of  Hood’s  people  who  were  mostly 
from  New  Orleans  and  vicinity. 

Meanwhile  my  own  regiment  was  rapidly  improving 
in  every  way.  I could  see  the  good  results  of  my 
method  of  instruction,  also  of  my  way  of  putting 
a stop  to  an  incipient  mutiny.  Crowds  of  New 
Orleans  people  came  on  Sundays  to  my  camp,  mostly 
of  mixed  colored  blood,  including  some  beautiful 
octoroon  women.  So  far  as  results  can  justify  any 
action,  my  work  in  that  mutiny  incident  was  perfect. 

On  August  14th,  I believe,  peace  was  signed  between 
Spain  and  our  country;  at  any  rate  all  fighting  was 
“called  off.”  On  August  15th  the  Berlin  was  back 
from  Santiago,  and  the  1st  Immunes  began  loading, 
expecting  to  sail  immediately,  when  I received  a tele- 
gram from  Washington  saying,  “You  will  go  to  Santi- 
ago upon  return  of  the  Berlin.”  On  inspection  of  the 
ship  I saw  that  it  needed  some  cleaning,  and  we  had  to 
wait  till  that  was  done,  and  then  we  loaded  on  every- 
thing in  one  day  notwithstanding  the  distance — four 
miles  from  the  river,  marched  down  to  the  wharf,  got 
aboard  and  started  down  the  river  before  sunset. 

Capt.  Windus  and  his  company,  “I,  ” had  charge  of 


274 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  actual  loading  of  the  ship.  That  day,  August 
17th,  from  earliest  daylight  we  were  very  busy,  moving 
from  our  camp,  and  surely  Windus  was  also  busy  at 
the  ship.  At  about  4.30  p.m.  the  regiment  was  formed 
at  camp,  every  man,  including  the  recent  sick  and 
wounded,  and  we  marched,  every  man  of  us,  down  to 
the  dock,  four  miles  away,  and  about  5.30  p.m.  we 
dropped  down  the  Mississippi. 

My  wife  had  been  with  me  for  about  a week,  leaving 
the  boys  back  at  Fort  Douglas.  We  did  not  have 
much  time  together,  because  of  my  great  need  to  be  at 
camp  always,  but  I was  glad  to  have  her  see  my  regi- 
ment, and  she  was,  too.  I had  barely  time  to  show 
her  over  “The  City  of  Berlin”  after  loading  on  the 
regiment. 

On  the  third  day  out  ammunition  was  issued  to  the 
men  for  the  first  time.  About  6.30  on  the  morning 
of  August  22nd  we  steamed  into  the  harbor  of  Santiago, 
passing  close  to  the  wreck  of  the  Merrimac,  in  the 
narrow  neck  of  the  harbor.  We  had  been  five  days  on 
the  water,  during  which  time  I had  to  do  some  care- 
ful handling  of  white  and  colored  officers,  so  as  to 
avoid  friction.  I had  carefully  refrained  from  re- 
questing the  assignment  of  a chaplain  to  the  regi- 
ment, not  feeling  the  need  of  one,  and  I was  hopeful 
that  none  would  be  sent  me,  even  though  I believed 
that  I was  entitled  under  the  law  to  a white  one.  To 
my  disappointment,  a colored  chaplain  joined  me  after 
our  arrival  in  Cuba. 

Hostilities  had  ceased,  but  we  were  greatly  needed, 
with  the  2nd,  3rd,  and  5th  Immunes  already  there,  to 
relieve  immediately  the  army  which  had  won  the 
Battle  of  San  Juan  Hill.  That  army  was  then  very 
sick  with  tropical  fevers,  including  yellow  fever. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Soon  after  anchoring  out  in  the  bay,  some  half 
a mile  from  shore,  the  Transport  Quartermaster,  Capt. 
Coulling,  and  I,  were  rowed  ashore.  We  first  went 
to  see  the  Chief  Quartermaster,  Col.  Humphrey,  and 
then  I went  to  report  to  my  superior  officer. 

I had  been  directed  to  report  at  Santiago  to  the 
Department  Commander,  and  from  correspondence 
and  papers  I understood  that  General  Lawton  would 
be  in  the  command  of  the  department  after  the 
departure  of  General  Shafter.  At  headquarters  I 
reported  to  Generals  Shafter  and  Lawton,  in  suc- 
cession. In  the  past  I had  known  both  of  them  well, 
and  had  seen  them  at  Tampa  only  a few  weeks  pre- 
viously. General  Shafter  looked  to  be  very  much  in 
need  of  rest  and  recuperation.  He  was  always  a good 
friend  of  mine. 

General  Lawton  told  me  to  go  out  to  San  Juan  Hill 
and  relieve  General  John  C.  Bates  and  the  9th 
Massachusetts  Volunteers  of  the  care  and  charge  of 
the  Spanish  prisoners,  so  as  to  enable  the  Massachu- 
setts Volunteers,  the  last  of  the  5th  Corps,  to  embark 
and  go  home. 

I requested  General  Lawton  to  allow  me  to  use  the 
entire  regiment  in  unloading  my  regimental  baggage, 
giving  as  my  reason  that  in  this  way  I would  personally 
be  there,  and  personally  see  that  the  work  would  be 

275 


276 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


expedited,  and  that,  therefore,  the  Berlin  would  the 
sooner  be  ready  for  General  Bates  and  his  volunteers. 
General  Lawton  granted  my  request,  freely  and  fully, 
seeming  to  agree  in  everything  with  me  and  with  the 
reasons  which  I gave. 

While  at  headquarters  I heard  nothing  to  indicate 
that  my  regiment  belonged  to  any  brigade,  or  to  the 
command  of  any  other  officer  except  the  department 
commander,  General  Lawton.  I made  no  inquiry  as 
to  that  point,  however,  and  I left  the  office  feeling 
that  I had  the  authority  of  my  only  commanding  gen- 
eral to  unload  the  vessel  in  the  manner  requested  by 
me,  and  that  I had  no  authority  to  unload  in  any  other 
without  first  obtaining  his  permission  to  do  so.  I 
also  believed  that  transportation  would  and  should 
be  sent  to  disembark  my  regiment  without  further 
effort  on  my  part. 

When  Captain  Coulling  and  I got  back  to  the 
Berlin  about  9 a.m.,  or  a little  later,  we  found  a small 
harbor  boat  alongside,  and  on  deck  I met  a young 
captain  of  volunteers  named  Scott,  who  told  me  that 
Brigadier  General  Leonard  Wood  directed  that  I 
disembark  immediately  with  the  band  and  eleven 
companies  of  my  regiment  and  march  out  to  San 
Juan  Hill  to  relieve  Gen.  Bates,  leaving  aboard  one 
company  to  unload  and  disembark  property. 

I was  very  much  surprised  and  disappointed.  I 
had  just  returned  from  the  office  of  the  Department 
Commander,  and  I had  his  authority  for  unloading  and 
disembarking  in  a different  manner,  all  of  which  I care- 
fully explained  to  Capt.  Scott.  The  Capt.  replied 
that  he  knew  no  more  than  what  he  had  just  told  me, 
and  he  then  carefully  repeated  those  orders  to  me.  I 
asked  him  to  tell  me  the  exact  hour  when  he  had 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


277 


received  his  instructions  from  General  Wood,  and  it 
happened  to  be  some  twenty  or  thirty  minutes  earlier 
than  the  exact  hour  of  my  conversation  with  General 
Lawton,  who  commanded  us  both. 

Inviting  Capt.  Scott’s  attention  to  the  fact  that  my 
authority  from  General  Lawton  was  20  or  30  minutes 
later  than  his  order  from  General  Wood,  I told  him 
that  I would  unload  and  disembark  in  the  manner 
authorized  by  General  Lawton. 

My  action  was  strictly  and  technically  correct,  but 
all  the  same  I have  never  ceased  to  regret  it  as  the 
biggest  mistake  of  my  life. 

I afterwards  learned  that  General  Wood  com- 
manded the  port  of  Santiago,  and  had  an  office  in  the 
headquarters  building,  but  at  that  time  I did  not  know 
it,  and  no  one  suggested  to  me  that  General  Wood  had 
anything  to  do  with  my  disembarking,  or  place  of 
camping. 

Ever  since  that  day  I have  thought  that  the  system 
then  being  used  at  Santiago  could  and  should  have 
been  made  to  work  much  easier  and  smoother,  leaving 
no  possibility  of  any  such  mistake  as  mine,  which  I 
believe  has  altered  the  whole  course  of  my  career. 
Capt.  Scott  took  the  boat  away  with  him,  and  for 
hours  I waited  for  a boat  to  come  and  disembark  my 
regiment,  and  finally,  in  the  afternoon,  I went  ashore 
again  and  saw  the  Chief  Quartermaster,  and  got  from 
him  the  promise  of  a boat  for  the  next  morning.  I 
would  have  begun  unloading  the  instant  a boat 
arrived,  but  I could  get  none  till  next  morning. 

The  following  day,  August  23rd,  1898,  we  worked 
hard  at  unloading  the  ship  and  disembarking  the 
regiment.  Before  leaving  the  ship  we  cleaned  it  up 
well,  so  that  it  would  be  in  condition  for  the  early 


278 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


departure  of  the  9th  Massachusetts.  Late  in  the 
afternoon,  the  entire  regiment  being  ashore,  I re- 
ceived a written  order  from  General  Shafter  to  “pro- 
ceed at  once  to  the  San  Juan  Road  and  report  to 
Major  General  J.  C.  Bates  for  instructions.” 

I lost  no  time  in  learning  the  road  to  San  Juan  Hill, 
and  I promptly  put  myself  at  the  head  of  my  regiment 
and  started  out  to  find  General  Bates.  Luckily  I met 
in  the  street,  shortly  after  starting,  Private  Kibby,  of 
my  own  company  in  the  24th  Infantry,  and  I got  him 
to  go  along  and  be  my  guide  to  the  camp  of  General 
Bates.  It  was  soon  dark,  but  my  guide  knew  the 
road,  and  we  had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  it. 

As  we  marched  along  in  the  dark  I talked  with  my 
old  soldier,  whom  I was  delighted  to  see,  for  I wanted 
to  know  an  enlisted  man’s  ideas  as  to  how  the  battle 
had  been  fought.  So  I asked  him,  “Now,  Kibby,  you 
know  that  I was  not  at  the  battle,  and  I want  to  know 
exactly  how  it  happened.  Tell  me  exactly  how  you 
did  it.  I know  you  came  along  a road,  down  a creek, 
then  you  crossed  a bigger  stream  immediately  below 
where  the  first  creek  joined  another,  and  you  had  to  go 
five  or  six  hundred  yards  across  a valley  and  attack  the 
Spaniards  on  a hill.  Now,  tell  me  how  you  did  it.” 
My  old  soldier  stammered  and  hesitated,  and  all 
the  description  he  could  give  me  was,  “Well,  Sir,  it 
was  just  this  way.  It  was  just  like  them  drills  we  used 
to  have,  ‘taking  a hill.’”  No  other  reply  or  descrip- 
tion could  have  pleased  me  half  so  well,  and  I then 
knew  that  my  old  company  of  the  24th  Infantry  had 
gone  at  that  San  Juan  Hill  just  as  they  had  done  in 
many  peace  exercises,  but  using  ball  cartridges  and 
live  targets  instead  of  blank  cartridges  and  inanimate 
objects. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


279 


On  a number  of  occasions  we  had,  at  Fort  Bayard, 
exercised  over  terrain  greatly  resembling  San  Juan 
Hill,  excepting  the  rank  vegetation  in  the  valley. 
No  better  illustration,  or  proof  could  have  been 
given  as  to  the  value  of  careful  instruction,  in  time  of 
peace,  in  those  exercises  which,  excepting  the  use  of 
ball  cartridges,  so  resemble  war  conditions  that 
the  men  will  do  their  part  just  as  though  at  drill. 

We  found  San  Juan  Hill  and  Gen.  Bates’  camp,  and 
I reported  to  the  General.  He  told  me  where  the 
Spanish  prisoners  camped,  and  informed  me  that  they 
needed  no  guards  except  to  prevent  some  mean 
Cubans  from  illtreating  them.  He  told  me  that  the 
prisoners  were  being  sent  to  Spain  as  fast  as  ships  could 
be  obtained  to  transport  them  home,  and  that  in  a 
few  days  more  the  prison  camp  would  be  empty. 

He  advised  me  to  camp  on  San  Juan  Hill,  on  the 
site  recently  vacated  by  the  20th  Infantry,  (his  old 
regiment),  just  across  the  pond  from  his  own  camp  at 
that  time.  I remarked,  “I  don’t  like  to  camp  on  the 
ground  recently  abandoned  by  other  troops.” 

He  contended  that  it  was  the  best  location,  all 
being  bad,  and  that  I could  soon  move  away  a short 
distance  and  still  not  have  far  to  travel  into  Santiago 
when  my  camp  should  be  permanently  changed. 
The  next  morning  General  Bates  repeated  his  sug- 
gestion as  to  camp  site,  but  I considered  him  as  my 
commanding  officer  for  the  time  being  and  his  sug- 
gestion as  an  order.  The  written  order  which  I had 
received  the  evening  before  said  that  I was  to  report 
to  Gen.  Bates  “for  instructions.” 

We  lay  down  in  the  road  where  we  were,  and  we 
spent  the  rest  of  the  night  there,  and  the  next  day, 
August  24,  camp  was  pitched  on  San  Juan  Hill,  and 


280 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


on  the  smaller  hill  on  the  other  side  of  the  road  which 
comes  from  El  Caney.  This  road  divided  my  camp. 
Headquarters,  Band  and  the  first  two  battalions  were 
put  on  San  Juan  Hill  proper,  utilizing  as  best  we  could 
the  ground  around  and  close  to  the  old  Spanish 
trenches,  and  using  new  ground  as  much  as  possible. 
Several  hundred  yards  away  was  the  camp  of  the 
several  thousand  Spanish  prisoners,  and  we  put  some 
men  on  the  road  from  their  camp  to  the  city,  guarding 
the  camp  against  intrusion  by  Cubans. 

Immediately  I tried  to  get  transportation  with 
which  to  bring  out  to  our  camp  our  big  tents  and 
heavy  baggage,  having  marched  out  with  nothing  but 
our  arms  and  shelter  tents.  We  could  not  get  the 
transportation.  We  were  told  that  in  a very  few  days, 
as  soon  as  the  last  Spanish  prisoner  had  gone,  we  would 
be  moved  up  to  San  Luis,  the  terminus  of  the  rail- 
road and  about  23  miles  from  Santiago,  and,  there- 
fore, for  quite  a while,  we  lived  in  shelter  tent  camp. 

Almost  every  day  I rode  into  Santiago,  to  Depart- 
ment Headquarters  and  to  the  Chief  Quartermasters, 
on  official  business  connected  with  bettering  the  condi- 
tion of  my  camp,  the  men  being  still  in  shelter  tents. 

The  last  prisoner  left  on  August  26th,  1898,  follow- 
ing which  the  regiment  was  employed  in  guarding  the 
deserted  camps  of  the  5th  Corps  (Shafter’s),  and  after 
that  in  hauling  in  to  Santiago  the  U.  S.  property  found 
in  those  camps  by  us,  all  the  time  guarding  our  own 
regimental  property  down  on  the  wharf  at  Santiago. 
Meanwhile  drill  and  regimental  instruction  was  not 
entirely  neglected.  Daily  we  drilled  in  the  early 
morning  and  late  afternoon,  and  my  men  captured 
San  Juan  Hill  many  times,  imagining  themselves 
the  24th  Infantry. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


281 


During  this  period  heavy  rains  began,  soaking  the 
camp  and  increasing  our  discomfort,  and  hastening 
the  arrival  of  the  inevitable  tropical  fevers  which  had 
worked  such  havoc  with  the  5th  Corps  regiments.  I 
do  not  know  why  we  were  not  moved  away  from 
San  Juan  Hill  as  soon  as  the  Spanish  prisoners  had 
gone,  August  26th.  Perhaps  it  was  desired  to  use  us 
for  the  work  of  guarding  and  hauling  in  for  storage  the 
property  which  had  been  left  in  the  5th  Corps  camps, 
and  possibly  it  was  supposed  that  we,  so  called 
“immunes,”  might  really  be  immune  to  tropical 
diseases. 

During  the  first  week  of  our  stay  in  that  camp 
I found  the  location  of  the  Division  Hospital,  Kent’s 
Division,  where  were  buried  some  of  our  men  who  had 
died  from  wounds  received  in  the  battle.  I found 
the  grave  of  my  2nd  Lieutenant,  J.  N.  Augustin,  Jr., 
plainly  marked  by  a piece  of  sheet  iron  with  his  name 
on  it.  I found  him  lying  on  his  back,  no  coffin,  but  an 
enlisted  man  was  buried  under  him.  It  was  heroic 
work  on  the  part  of  my  two  “immunes”  who  took  the 
corpse  out  of  the  grave.  I can  never  forget  it,  espe- 
cially the  part  taken  by  my  orderly,  Bev,  the  old 
soldier  who  had  worked  for  my  father  when  I was  a 
boy.  I had  brought  with  me  from  New  Orleans  a 
metallic  casket,  given  me  by  my  lieutenant’s  father, 
and  I hastened  to  take  the  remains  into  Santiago  for 
shipment  to  New  Orleans,  which  happened  in  a few 
days. 

About  September  2nd  a wave  of  tropical  fevers 
passed  through  my  camp,  the  first  death  occurred  on 
September  12th,  and  on  September  18th,  1st  Lieuten- 
ant L.  I.  Barnett  died,  one  of  my  best  colored  officers. 
“Pernicious  malarial  fever”  was  the  description  gener- 


282 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


ally  given  the  deadly  disease  which  killed  so  many 
of  my  9th  Immunes,  but  the  difference  from  yellow 
fever  seemed  in  some  cases  almost  imaginary. 

On  September  11th  we  received  the  order  to  move 
up  to  San  Luis,  the  order  which  we  had  been  looking 
and  longing  for,  so  long.  On  that  day  so  many  of  my 
men  were  down,  sick,  that  we  could  not  get  up  and  go, 
and  I rode  into  Santiago  and  so  informed  General 
Lawton,  and  six  days  passed  before  enough  men  were 
able  to  do  the  work  necessary  for  moving  our  men  and 
camp  equipage. 

One  morning,  on  San  Juan  Hill,  during  this  waiting 
for  my  men  to  get  a little  stronger,  I was  sitting  in 
front  of  my  tent,  waiting  for  reveille,  and  to  see  how 
the  roll  calls  were  being  conducted.  I wanted  to  see 
if  my  people  were  doing  their  best.  The  men  of  the 
1st  and  2nd  Battalions,  who  were  under  my  direct 
observation  and  within  the  sound  of  my  voice,  came 
out  and  attended  reveille  roll  call  in  fairly  good 
strength,  but  in  the  other  Battalion  there  was  no  roll 
call,  no  formation  in  any  company  street.  I was  not 
satisfied  with  that  evidence,  so  I waited  and  watched 
a little  longer,  to  see  if  the  call  to  breakfast  would  be 
any  more  attractive.  Some  few  men  moved  about  the 
company  streets  between  first  call  and  assembly,  but 
after  reveille  was  entirely  over  quite  a number 
promptly  appeared  in  each  company  street,  and  began 
their  morning  work.  Of  course  there  were  even  more 
at  breakfast. 

That  convinced  me  that  in  those  companies  the 
men,  to  some  extent,  had  given  up  their  courage,  or 
were  brazenly  neglecting  their  ordinary  military 
duties.  At  this  writing  I believe  that  both  reasons 
were  instrumental  in  causing  the  omission  of  all  roll 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


283 


calls  that  morning  in  the  3rd  Battalion.  The  last  and 
best  reason  was,  the  failure  of  some  of  the  officers  of 
that  battalion  to  rise  to  the  occasion  and  perform  their 
own  duties. 

I knew  that  something  had  to  be  done,  and 
promptly,  as  on  the  occasion  of  the  incipient  mutiny 
in  New  Orleans.  After  breakfast,  with  my  second 
surgeon,  Lieut.  James  Mitchell,  I went  along  those 
company  streets,  and  I made  quite  a talk  in  front  of 
each  tent  where  I found  any  of  my  men.  At  each 
place  I made  practically  the  same  talk.  Again  I 
wanted  to  make  the  men  stop  thinking  about  them- 
selves and  their  condition.  This  time  I wanted  to 
make  them  angry,  feeling  sure  that  it  would  make 
them  stronger,  and  I intended,  also,  to  arouse  in  them 
all  their  pride,  especially  their  pride  of  race.  Finally, 
I wanted  to  strengthen  the  weak  in  courage. 

In  substance  I said, 

“ From  my  tent  this  morning  I saw  that  you  had  no 
company  formation,  no  roll  call  at  reveille.  And  I 
saw  that,  as  soon  as  reveille  was  over,  there  were 
lots  of  you  in  each  company  street.  Of  course  you 
will  say  that  you  were  sick  and  not  able  to  attend  a 
roll  call.  A good  many  of  you  are  sick,  like  a good 
many  in  each  of  the  other  companies,  but  sickness  did 
not  really  keep  you  away  from  reveille  roll  call  this 
morning.  It  was  more  a lack  of  ‘ sand,’  the  real  grit 
that  you  ought  to  have  as  soldiers.  You  call  yourselves 
‘immunes,’  and  you  claim  to  endure  certain  tropical 
diseases  better  than  white  men  do.  Now  I want  you 
to  give  me  some  proof  that  you  can  do  that,  some  proof 
that  you  can  do  it  even  as  well  as  white  men  are  doing 
it  right  now.  You  are  not  doing  that.  More  sand, 
men,  that’s  what  I want  to  see.  There  will  be  a for- 
mation in  every  company  street  for  reveille,  and  every 
other  time  that  there  should  be  one.” 


284 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


As  I went  along  each  company  street  and  looked  at 
the  men  I was  talking  to  I could  see  that  many  of  them 
were  very  sick,  and  I believed  that  some  of  them  were 
dangerously  ill.  One  man,  with  yellow  eyes,  I marked, 
and,  as  soon  as  I could,  I asked  my  surgeon,  “James, 
did  you  see  him?  Wasn’t  that  ‘Yellow  Jack?  ’ ” The 
poor  “immune”  was  dead  in  less  than  a week. 

My  speech  was  a brutal  one,  just  like  my  action  that 
night  of  the  incipient  mutiny  at  New  Orleans,  but  in 
both  instances  my  intuition  was  absolutely  correct. 
My  visit  to  the  camp  of  the  3rd  Battalion  put  heart 
and  spirit  into  every  man  of  them,  and  worked  a world 
of  good.  I am  sure  that  then  I saved  the  lives  of  many 
men  who  had  little  hope  left,  and  who  would  other- 
wise have  given  up  the  fight.  In  both  cases  I did 
exactly  the  right  thing,  but  in  each  instance,  what  to 
do  and  the  psychological  moment  for  doing  it,  came 
as  instantaneous  intuition  leaving  no  doubt  as  to  its 
wisdom  if  properly  performed. 

But,  unless  the  officer  should  feel  the  intuition  good 
and  strong,  and  unless  he  is  sure  that  he  could  do  his 
part  perfectly,  I wouldn’t  recommend  such  action 
under  similar  circumstances.  Intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  colored  man  was  my  best  asset,  to  begin  with, 
and  at  no  time  did  I have  the  slighest  doubt  regarding 
my  action,  its  propriety  and  chance  of  success. 
Willingness  to  assume  responsibility  and  confidence  in 
one’s  self  go  a long  way  under  such  circumstances. 

The  causes  of  so  much  sickness  were  several  in 
number.  Undoubtedly  our  ignorance,  at  that  time, 
of  proper  camp  sanitation  increased  our  sickness,  but 
such  ignorance  wras  general,  and  the  camps  of  the 
regular  regiments  of  the  5th  Corps  had  also  been 
full  of  sick  soldiers.  From  the  beginning  I was  afraid 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


285 


of  our  camp  site,  but  I felt  that  I could  not  do  other- 
wise than  follow  General  Bates’s  “instructions”  and 
remain  there  at  least  a few  days.  And  then,  we  be- 
lieved that  as  soon  as  the  Spanish  prisoners  left,  we  too 
would  go,  and  go  to  a new  and  healthy  location  up  in 
the  hills.  Then  later,  we  worked  with  the  abandoned 
camps,  rushing  the  work  in  the  hope  that  we  would 
move  all  the  sooner  by  doing  that  work. 

The  men  appeared  to  be  stronger  by  the  middle  of 
September,  and  on  the  18th  instant  the  1st  Battalion 
marched  into  Santiago,  took  the  train  and  moved  up 
to  San  Luis,  followed  on  the  19th  and  20th, 
respectively,  by  the  3rd  and  2nd  Battalions.  Per- 
haps we  would  have  been  in  better  physical  condition, 
and  with  fewer  deaths  against  our  record,  if,  after 
the  departure  of  the  Spanish  prisoners,  we  could 
have  promptly  moved  even  the  four  or  five  hundred 
yards,  suggested  by  General  Bates  as  being,  probably 
an  improvement  on  San  Juan  Hill  as  a camp  site. 
Various  reasons  and  causes  interfered  with  our  moving 
anywhere  before  the  rains  came,  and  brought  deadly 
diseases  with  them. 

I remained  in  camp  to  superintend  the  movement  of 
my  men,  and  to  see  the  camp  well  cleaned  up  before 
our  departure.  I went  to  San  Luis  with  the  last 
troops,  after  seeing  all  the  camp  well  cleaned. 

The  regiment  was  put  in  camp  just  outside  of  San 
Luis  by  the  brigade  commander,  Brigadier  General 
E.  P.  Ewers,  U.  S.  Vols.  The  other  regiments  of  the 
brigade,  the  8th  111.  and  the  23rd  Kansas,  were 
camped  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  town  from  us,  to  my 
great  satisfaction.  Those  colored  volunteers  had  all 
colored  officers,  and  had  not  as  good  discipline  as  we 
had  in  the  9th  Immunes. 


286 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Our  new  camp  site  was  well  drained,  and  our  whole 
energy  was  bent  towards  getting  our  men  back  into 
good  physical  condition,  doing  only  so  much  military 
duty  as  was  absolutely  necessary  and  at  the  same  time 
very  healthy  exercise.  The  instruction  of  the  officers 
was  resumed  in  this  camp,  and  the  various  service 
manuals,  of  Guard  Duty,  Courts  Martial  and  Infantry 
Drill  were  used  diligently. 

Early  in  November  I felt  the  need  of  rest  and 
recuperation,  and  I therefore  went  into  the  officers’ 
hospital  in  Santiago,  accompanied  by  my  brother-in- 
law,  Asst.  Surgeon  James  Mitchell,  who  was  also  worn 
down  and  in  need  of  rest.  When  we  went  to  the 
hospital  we  were  not  sick  enough  to  have  to  take  to 
bed  and  stay  there,  but  we  both  needed  very  much 
the  few  days  rest  which  we  had  at  the  hospital.  My 
appetite  was  poor,  and  I was  delighted  to  find  in  the 
hospital  a shotgun  and  some  cartridges,  and  in  that 
small  enclosure  I killed  nine  little  doves  like  the  small 
doves  found  around  San  Antonio,  Texas,  and  along 
the  Rio  Grande.  These  birds  were  greatly  relished 
by  both  of  us. 

When  we  had  been  absent  about  ten  days,  and  were 
ready  to  return  in  a day  or  two,  we  received  infor- 
mation which  made  us  both  hasten  back  to  San  Luis 
as  soon  as  the  Surgeon  at  the  hospital  could  let  us  go, 
and  we  used  the  next  train.  A most  regrettable 
incident  had  occurred  in  my  absence  from  the  regiment. 
I don’t  know  that  my  presence  at  camp  would  have 
prevented  it,  but  I believe  so.  I hastened  there 
November  15th,  to  remedy  matters  the  best  I could. 

During  my  absence  a squad  of  newly  organized 
Cuban  Rural  Police  had  gone  to  San  Luis.  From  my 
investigation  I could  not  learn  that  the  commanding 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


287 


officer  of  my  camp  had  received  any  information  as  to 
the  duties,  instructions  and  powers  of  those  men  who 
were  under  the  special  control  of  the  department 
commander,  at  that  time,  General  Wood. 

My  men  had  never  heard  of  the  Rural  Police,  and 
they  were  very  much  surprised  to  see  the  strangers 
locate  themselves  practically  within  the  jurisdiction  of 
my  camp,  in  a house  where  we  had  a sentinel’s  post 
over  some  of  our  property  which  was  stored  in  one  of 
the  outhouses.  In  one  of  the  ground  floor  rooms  of 
the  main  building,  in  the  yard  of  which  was  my 
sentinel’s  post,  there  was  a small  shop  where  soft 
drinks,  fruits  and  other  things  were  sold  to  my  men, 
and  my  men  were  in  the  habit  of  openly  and  freely 
frequenting  that  shop. 

When  the  Rural  Police  had  been  several  days  in  the 
main  building  a disturbance  occurred  in  the  little  store 
between  one  or  more  of  them  and  one  or  more  of  my 
men,  resulting  in  my  men  running  to  camp  for  help. 
More  men  came  from  camp  with  their  rifles,  and  there 
was  quite  a fusilade,  resulting  in  the  death  of  the 
Lieutenant  of  the  Rural  Police  and  one  of  his  men,  also 
the  old  man  who  owned  the  place.  A child  of  the 
family  was  also  hit. 

No  soldier  was  wounded,  and  that  fact,  more  than 
anything  else,  prevented  any  certain  knowledge 
leaking  out  as  to  what  individual  soldiers  were  con- 
cerned in  the  disturbance.  My  own  belief  has  always 
been  that  the  sentinel  took  a hand  in  it,  but  I could 
get  no  evidence  to  that  effect. 

I endeavored  to  find  out  which  of  my  men  had 
taken  part  in  the  affray,  but  I could  get  no  evidence 
implicating  any  particular  man.  The  thousand 
dollars  offered  by  the  Department  Commander  also 


288 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


failed  to  bring  to  light  any  satisfactory  evidence. 
In  a case  of  that  kind  colored  people  can  keep  a secret, 
and  they  kept  that  one,  just  as  other  colored  soldiers 
did,  after  the  Brownsville  raid  in  the  winter  of  1906-7. 
Honest  effort  was  made  by  us  to  discover  who  were 
concerned,  or  even  present  at  the  shooting,  all  with- 
out success. 

Not  being  in  my  camp  when  the  strangers  arrived 
I had  no  first  hand  knowledge  of  the  case,  and  honest 
effort  to  discover  something  after  I returned  failed  to 
give  me  any  information.  Apparently,  they  came 
without  warning  to  anybody,  and  located  themselves 
without  orders  from  any  one  superior  to  the  lieutenant 
in  command  of  them. 

In  about  a month  and  a half,  when  my  men  were 
much  improved  in  health,  the  regiment  was  again 
moved,  about  the  last  of  November,  out  to  a new  and 
pretty  camp  site  on  a bold  and  clear  stream  some 
three  miles  from  San  Luis.  The  camp  was  carefully 
pitched,  and  with  the  increasing  strength  of  my  men 
more  military  work  was  done.  Drills  were  resumed 
by  company  and  by  battalion,  and,  without  orders 
from  any  superior  officer  I instituted  target  practice. 
We  had  picked  up,  around  the  abandoned  camps  and 
trenches  of  the  5th  Corps  regiments,  some  thousands 
of  cartridges,  for  both  the  old  Springfield  and  for 
the  new  Krag- Jorgenson  rifle,  and  we  used  up  those 
cartridges  in  an  improvised  system  of  target  practice 
which  interested  and  improved  my  men  very  much. 

Near  to  our  camp  were  lots  of  wild  guineas,  and 
those  birds  resembled  very  much  the  other  birds  of  the 
big  grouse  family.  One  of  my  majors,  D.  B.  Harrison, 
had  brought  with  him  to  Cuba  a 12-gauge  shotgun, 
and  with  that  gun  I hunted  the  birds  a number  of 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


289 


times,  and  I found  their  habits,  manner  of  hiding, 
flushing  and  flying  very  similar  to  what  I had  observed 
while  hunting  prairie  chickens  about  Fort  Sill.  Except 
for  a somewhat  different  appearance  those  guineas 
might  have  been  mistaken  for  prairie  chickens,  and 
they  looked  exactly  like  barnyard  guineas,  excepting 
that  their  color  was  not  quite  as  bright.  I killed 
one  which  was  nearly  white. 

This  camp  was  quite  comfortable  and  healthy.  We 
had  our  “A”  tents  for  the  men  and  “Common”  tents 
for  the  officers,  and  big  hospital  tents  for  the  hospital 
and  sick.  We  had  to  cut  down  the  high  grass  to  make 
the  necessary  space  for  camp.  We  obtained  our 
good  tents  for  the  men  at  the  time  when,  according  to 
my  recollection,  we  were  at  the  same  time  busy 
hauling  the  property  of  the  5th  Corps  regiments  from 
their  abandoned  camps  into  Santiago.  My  recol- 
lection is,  that  only  in  that  way  could  we  obtain  the 
necessary  transportation  for  our  own  purposes. 

The  following  incident  will  show  the  height  and 
thickness  of  the  grass.  One  day,  while  hunting 
guineas  with  Major  Harrison’s  shotgun,  I flushed 
some  guineas  and  quickly  downed  one  of  them  about 
thirty  yards  away.  The  bird  fell  in  the  high  grass, 
and  at  the  sound  of  the  shot  some  other  guineas  arose 
right  behind  me.  I must  have  passed  right  through 
them.  I turned  in  my  tracks  and  fired  straight  to  the 
rear,  getting  one  of  the  second  flight,  and  this  bird 
also  fell  in  the  high  grass. 

There  was  nothing  to  assist  me  in  marking  the  spot 
where  either  bird  had  fallen,  and  the  grass  was  at  least 
two  and  half  feet  high,  and  very  thick.  Before  mov- 
ing out  of  my  tracks  I tried  to  fix  approximately  the 
location  of  the  dead  birds.  I hunted  for  them,  one 


290 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


after  the  other,  for  about  an  hour,  and  I found  neither 
of  them.  They  were  very  young  birds  and  therefore 
easily  killed,  and  they  fell  like  very  dead  birds. 

The  various  fevers  had  about  disappeared  from  our 
camp,  and  from  the  camps  of  other  regiments  by  Janu- 
ary 1,  1889,  and  about  that  time  the  American  girl 
appeared  in  Santiago.  It  was  good  for  sore  eyes  to 
see  again  some  of  our  own  American  women,  and  this 
reminded  me  that  my  wife  might  now  with  safety  visit 
my  camp.  So  I wrote,  requesting  her  to  come,  and  I 
bought  for  her  coming  a pretty  Cuban  pony  and  a side 
saddle,  to  be  used  by  her  in  riding  about  the  country. 
She  needed  no  urging,  and  arrived  about  the  26th  of 
January,  1899.  Her  first  words  were,  “Why,  you 
don’t  look  sick,”  proving  that  she  expected  me  to  show 
the  ravages  of  disease.  James  Mitchell,  her  brother, 
had  written  home  about  our  having  been  in  the  hos- 
pital together,  and  she  remembered  it.  In  my  letters 
I had  said  nothing  about  having  been  sick,  although  I 
wrote  from  the  hospital.  It  has  always  been  my 
custom  to  say  nothing  about  my  troubles  in  my  letters. 
For  two  or  three  days  my  wife  and  I enjoyed  going 
about  the  neighborhood  of  our  camp,  and  then  we 
made  a trip  to  Santiago,  to  see  our  old-time  friends 
of  the  24th  Infantry,  the  Palmers,  and  their  daughter, 
Mrs.  Augustin. 

Captain  Alfred  M.  Palmer,  Quartermaster  at  Santi- 
ago, had  served  many  years  in  the  24th  Infantry,  and 
his  daughter  Alice  had  married  my  second  lieutenant, 
J.  N.  Augustin,  Jr.,  who  was  killed  at  San  Juan  Hill. 
We  found  Mrs.  Augustin  with  her  parents,  and  we 
spent  a very  pleasant  day  with  them,  returning  the 
same  evening  to  our  camp  in  the  hills.  The  next 
morning  my  wife  was  a little  indisposed  with  a loose- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


291 


ness  of  the  bowels,  apparently  nothing  much,  so  I went 
on  with  my  general  court  martial  work  in  San  Luis, 
where  I was  president  of  the  court  composed  of  officers 
from  the  three  colored  regiments  comprising  our 
brigade.  On  the  second  morning  I went  again  to  my 
court  martial,  and  on  returning  I found  that  my  wife 
was  really  sick.  I promptly  obtained  the  services  of  a 
woman  nurse  then  in  my  camp,  she  being  the  wife  of  a 
9th  Immune  sergeant,  on  leave  from  the  Hospital  in 
Santiago.  I stayed  in  camp  with  my  wife.  My  wife 
died,  in  my  double  tent,  before  she  had  been  sick  fully 
five  days,  having  a very  high  fever  and  the  worst  form 
of  dysentery. 

Then,  of  course,  I was  sorry  that  I had  even  con- 
sented to  her  coming.  I had  really  written  for  her  to 
come,  saying  that  it  was  safe.  She  died  from  sickness 
contracted  in  line  of  duty.  Indeed,  she  had  come  to 
Santiago  expecting  to  find  me  sick  and  to  have  to  nurse 
me  back  to  health. 

I obtained  one  month’s  leave  of  absence,  and  carried 
my  wife’s  remains  to  the  United  States  on  a British 
tramp  steamer  which  stopped  several  days  at  Cienfue- 
gos  en  route.  While  about  opposite  Cape  Hatteras  we 
saw  a school  of  small  whales,  and  during  the  trip  we 
had  opportunity  to  examine  a flying  fish  at  close  range. 
One  day,  as  the  ship  rolled  more  than  usual,  a flying 
fish  landed  on  the  deck  and  was  picked  up  by  a mem- 
ber of  the  crew.  It  was  shown  immediately  to  Capt. 
Nolan  and  myself,  and  was  given  to  us  the  next  morn- 
ing for  breakfast,  and  a good  fish  it  was.  Capt.  Robert 
Nolan  was  going  home  on  a short  sick  leave. 

For  several  days  the  weather  had  been  so  rough  that 
Nolan  and  I had  been  having  considerable  difficulty 
in  persuading  our  food  to  remain  in  our  stomachs,  and 


292 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


this  fresh  fish  was  all  the  more  appreciated  by  both 
of  us. 

My  wife’s  remains  were  buried  in  a Philadelphia 
cemetery,  on  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill  River,  in  the 
Mitchell  family  lot. 

I obtained  several  weeks  extension  to  my  leave,  was 
in  Washington  the  last  day  of  Congress,  dined  in  the 
Capitol  basement  next  table  to  a Volunteer  Colonel 
and  an  outgoing  Congressman,  and  I was  very  much 
interested  in  their  talk.  The  Colonel  was  also  an  out- 
going Congressman,  and  before  leaving  his  regiment 
had  been  in  a fight  which  left  ugly  marks  on  his  face, 
and  he  was  not  satisfied  with  the  results  of  that  fight. 
In  a few  years  there  was  a sequel  to  that  fight,  down  in 
Kentucky. 

Returning  to  Cuba  I found  my  regiment  much  scat- 
tered, part  being  in  San  Luis,  and  the  other  companies 
occupying  four  or  five  different  posts.  One  post  was 
at  Mayan  on  the  northern  coast  of  the  island,  one  at 
Palma  Soriano  twelve  miles  from  San  Luis,  and  farther 
inland,  and  one  was  at  El  Cobre,  off  the  railroad  and 
about  15  miles  from  Santiago.  We  also  occupied  sev- 
eral other  small  towns  on  the  little  railroad  which  split 
after  climbing  up  the  mountain,  each  branch  then  ex- 
tending a few  miles  further.  One  of  the  small  towns  was 
Songo,  the  terminus  of  the  other  branch  of  the  railroad. 

The  Cubans  had  gotten  restless,  and  some  of  them 
were  burning  cane  fields,  and  robbing  rich  plantations. 
There  are,  so  far  as  my  observation  went,  no  small 
farms  in  Cuba.  There  are  only  big  plantations,  of  a 
varying  number  of  houses  and  people,  all  living  to- 
gether in  a village.  These  villages  looked  to  be  com- 
plete. In  my  absence  two  of  my  companies  were 
given  horses,  and  thus  became  mounted  infantry.  I 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


293 


had  at  San  Luis  one  of  these  mounted  companies,  and 
the  other  was  at  Mayari. 

Among  the  restless  Cubans  who  were  called 
“banditti”  was  one  Troncon,  certainly  an  interesting 
character.  He  was  said  to  have  been  the  man  who  did 
the  chopping  off  of  Spanish  prisoners  heads  for  Lieut. 
Gen.  Antonio  Maceo,  a mulatto  and  one  of  their  best 
generals.  Troncon  was  said  to  handle  a huge  machete 
and  he  was  credited  with  having  removed  the  heads  of 
a hundred  Spanish  prisoners,  each  at  one  stroke,  but 
for  all  that  I do  not  vouch. 

We  were  after  the  “banditti,”  and  especially 
Troncon.  My  men  were  eager  to  go  after  those  people 
because  the  banditti  had  killed  a 9th  Immune  in 
unprovoked  cold  blood,  and  the  similarity  of  color 
and  blood  meant  nothing  after  that,  and  several 
banditti  were  killed.  After  a good  deal  of  hunting 
and  searching  for  him,  Troncon  was  finally  captured 
by  one  of  my  detachments  under  the  command  of 
Major  Harrison,  and  was  brought  into  camp.  I was 
sorry  he  had  not  offered  resistance. 

He  looked  to  me  to  be  the  biggest,  not  the  fattest 
man  that  I ever  saw.  He  was  coal  black,  about  six 
feet  and  two  or  three  inches  tall,  exceedingly  broad 
shouldered,  and  a finely  proportioned  giant.  He  gave 
us  no  trouble  whatever  while  in  confinement,  and  was 
soon  sent  to  Santiago,  and  I have  no  knowledge  of 
Troncon’s  after  career.  Such  a thing  as  he  deserved 
exactly  the  sort  of  punishment  he  had  so  often  meted 
out  to  prisoners,  but  we  could  not  do  that,  so  that 
perhaps  Troncon  lived  to  continue  his  bloody  career 
some  time  longer. 

As  said  before,  the  banditti  had  killed  one  of  my 
men  in  cold-blooded  murder.  There  was  no  kind 


294 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


feeling  between  my  colored  soldiers  and  the  Cuban 
colored  people  who  composed  about  four  fifths  of  the 
population  of  the  eastern  hah  of  Cuba,  the  same  people 
who  have  furnished  the  beginnings  of  most  of  the 
insurrections  against  the  Spaniards.  Besides  taking 
some  prisoners  my  men  killed  several  Cuban  banditti, 
and  because  of  frequent  expeditions  against  them  my 
men  were  fast  becoming  good  soldiers. 

Four  white  captains  and  about  double  that  number 
of  colored  lieutenants  had  left  the  regiment,  and  their 
places  were  filled  by  better  men.  In  this  way  (sug- 
gestion of  unfitness  and  the  “ benzine  board  ”) , assisted 
by  other  causes,  vacancies  were  made  for  several  old 
noncommissioned  officers  from  the  colored  regulars, 
and  those  men  performed  the  practical  and  military 
duties  of  an  officer  with  much  efficiency.  Their  lack 
of  education  was  always  a handicap,  but  they  worked 
hard  to  even  up. 

My  major  surgeon  had  left  the  regiment,  and  my 
brother-in-law,  James  Mitchell,  was  promoted  to  the 
vacancy  thus  created,  and  several  good  white  captains 
joined  me. 

The  Cubans  were  beginning  to  show  considerable 
irritation  at  our  prolonged  stay  on  the  island,  and 
while  I was  travelling  on  the  little  railroad,  going  to 
and  coming  from  Santiago,  Cuban  officers  frequently 
inquired  of  me,  “ When  are  the  Americans  going  to  leave 
Cuba?”  I heard  of  similar  inquiries  made  of  others. 
My  regiment  soon  left  the  island,  but  some  regular  regi- 
ments remained  on  duty  there  for  several  years  longer. 

On  that  little  narrow  gauge  railroad  the  conductor 
would  regulate  the  speed  and  the  halts  of  his  train  by 
the  use  of  a whistle,  having  to  open  the  door  each  time 
he  wished  to  use  it. 


CHAPTER  XII 

About  the  middle  of  April,  1899,  intimation  of  our 
approaching  departure  began  to  reach  us.  At  first 
it  was  expected  that  we  would  sail  about  May  1st,  and 
we  were  so  informed,  and  directed  to  hold  ourselves  in 
readiness  to  move  promptly,  the  infantry  company  at 
Mayan  being  brought  in  early,  so  as  to  facilitate  rapid 
moving  from  that  place  which  was  about  40  miles  from 
San  Luis  by  poor  roads. 

The  mounted  company  was  left  at  Mayari  a little 
longer.  Although  my  retained  telegraphic  order 
directing  movement  to  Santiago,  to  embark  there,  is 
dated  April  25th,  we  knew  positively  on  the  23rd  that 
the  move  had  been  directed. 

In  tropical  countries  telegraph  lines  are  frequently 
put  out  of  order  by  storms,  and  it  was  our  bad  luck 
to  have  no  telegraphic  communication  with  Mayari 
on  the  23rd.  I was  going  to  send  some  mounted 
messengers  to  Major  Romain  with  the  order,  when 
two  Cuban  gentlemen  came  from  Santiago,  en  route  to 
Mayari.  They  arrived  about  sunset  and  were  going 
through  that  same  night,  and  they  requested  of  us  a 
short  rest  and  something  to  eat.  One  of  these  gentle- 
men was  named  Betancourt,  a good  name  in  Cuba,  and 

295 


I 


296 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


this  man  was  well  known  to  me  by  reputation,  so  that 
I did  not  hesitate  to  entrust  to  him  my  written  mes- 
sage to  Major  Romain,  for  delivery  the  following 
morning. 

My  written  message  to  Romain  was  to  ride  hard  and 
be  at  San  Luis  early  the  26th,  so  as  to  take  the  train 
immediately  for  Santiago.  The  Cuban  gentleman 
rode  well,  and  delivered  my  order  to  Major  Romain 
promptly,  then  Romain  and  his  mounted  men  rode 
hard  and  were  at  San  Luis  on  time. 

The  companies  at  Songo,  Cristo  and  El  Cobre  were 
also  ready  and  waiting.  There  was  no  hitch  whatever, 
the  company  at  Palma  Soriano  having  been  brought  to 
San  Luis,  to  camp  there  the  night  of  April  25th. 
Using  several  trains  for  our  scattered  companies, 
we  concentrated  on  the  wharf  at  Santiago  per- 
fectly, and  the  troops  as  they  arrived  immediately 
took  small  boats  for  the  U.  S.  Transport  Meade,  the 
former  City  of  Berlin,  and  the  loading  of  that  ship  was 
superintended  by  myself.  Our  orders  directed  the 
ship  to  leave  that  same  night,  and  because  of  the  tide 
we  had  to  get  out  of  the  harbor  by  about  6 p.m.  This 
made  us  hustle,  every  man  of  us. 

I was  informed  that  the  Department  Commander 
Gen.  Wood,  intended  to  inspect  the  boat  before  we 
sailed,  and  he  was  on  hand  an  hour  or  two  beforehand, 
and  he  suggested  twice  the  impossibility  of  our  being 
able  to  get  away  by  6 p.m.  But  I insisted  that  we 
would  be  ready,  sure,  so  far  as  the  regiment  was 
concerned,  and  I was  right.  We  were  ready  on  time, 
with  15  or  20  minutes  to  spare,  during  which  time  Gen. 
Wood  expressed  his  satisfaction  with  our  good  work  for 
the  day,  and  he  gave  me  a letter,  of  which  the  following 
is  a copy. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


297 


Headquarters  Department  of  Santiago, 
Santiago  de  Cuba, 

April  25,  1899. 


Colonel  Crane, 

9th  U.  S.  V.  Infy. 

Sir: 

Your  regiment  having  been  relieved  from  duty  in 
this  department  it  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  assure 
you  that  I have  always  found  your  regiment  to  be 
efficient,  well  instructed  and  well  disciplined,  and  that 
its  services,  taken  as  a whole,  have  been  excellent  and 
creditable. 

The  work  done  by  the  officers  of  the  regiment  in  the 
suppression  of  banditti  during  the  last  two  months 
has  been  especially  worthy  of  commendation. 

I desire  to  express  my  appreciation  of  your  own 
constant  and  untiring  efforts  to  improve  the  condi- 
tion and  efficiency  of  your  men  and  to  look  after  their 
welfare,  in  which  endeavors  you  have  been  very 
successful. 

Very  respectfully, 

(Signed)  Leonard  Wood, 

Major  General  U.  S.  Vols. 

Commanding  Department  of  Santiago. 


We  passed  out  of  the  harbor  of  Santiago  before  dark 
on  the  26th  of  April,  and  we  had  a pleasant  trip  to 
New  York,  the  only  unpleasantness  arising  from  the 
tendency  to  friction  between  the  white  officers  and 
their  wives  and  the  colored  officers  and  their  wives. 
I settled  this  matter  by  dividing  the  decks  between 
them  and  then  making  all  keep  on  their  own  part  of 
the  deck.  On  one  occasion  I very  promptly  used  a 
little  disciplinary  measure  with  great  success.  I did  it 
just  as  quickly  and  quietly  as  I had  acted  on  other 
occasions,  and  with  just  as  great  success.  I did  not 
have  to  do  it  twice. 


298 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


The  occasion  referred  to  was  caused  by  the  presence 
aboard  ship  of  white  captains  and  their  wives,  also 
colored  lieutenants  and  their  wives,  and,  most  espe- 
cially, a colored  chaplain  who  had  been  with  us  only  a 
few  months.  When  he  had  been  with  us  less  than  two 
months  he  relieved  a sentinel  one  day  and  sent  him 
to  his  tent.  The  sentinel  was  really  sick,  and  should 
have  been  relieved  on  that  account,  but  there  was  a 
proper  way  to  do  it.  He  had  only  to  call  out,  “Cor- 
poral of  the  Guard,  Number  — , Relief,”  and  wait  for 
his  substitute  a very  few  minutes.  I instructed  the 
chaplain  somewhat  that  time,  making  due  allowance 
for  his  ignorance. 

But  the  second  occasion  was  more  serious,  and 
might  have  caused  the  worst  sort  of  trouble  if  I had  not 
been  on  the  spot  at  the  instant. 

On  the  transport,  in  order  to  avoid  friction  between 
the  wives  of  my  white  officers  and  the  wives  of  my 
colored  officers,  which  would  necessarily  have  involved 
their  husbands  and  others,  I issued  even  before  leav- 
ing the  dock,  a carefully  worded  order,  in  which  I 
described  clearly  and  concisely  the  exact  limits  of  deck 
space  assigned  to  each  class  of  officers  and  their 
wives,  and  I ordered  them  all  to  stay  within  such 
limits  during  the  entire  trip  to  New  York. 

About  the  second  day  out  at  sea,  one  morning,  I 
heard  some  animated  talking  in  which  my  order  was 
being  discussed,  with  conflicting  views  advanced.  I 
instantly  went  there,  and  it  was  well  that  I did.  My 
colored  chaplain,  in  his  ignorance,  was  asserting  the 
rights  of  colored  officers  and  their  wives  to  go  any 
where  on  that  ship,  order,  or  no  order,  no  color  line 
being  applicable  to  officers  of  the  Army.  I saw  that 
my  previous  lesson  had  been  forgotten  by  the  chaplain 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


299 


and  that,  again,  I had  to  do  something  quick  as 
thought,  and  I did  it. 

I ordered  the  chaplain  to  follow  me  into  one  of  the 
big  rooms  of  the  ship,  and  there  I said  to  him  about 
as  follows : 

“ In  your  ignorance  you  have  again  meddled  in  my 
business,  and  this  time  it  is  very  serious.  You  have 
taken  the  stand  that  my  orders  do  not  have  to  be 
obeyed,  and  you  have  advised  others  to  ignore  them, 
and  that  might  have  caused  bloodshed  and  ruin  to  this 
regiment  in  a few  minutes.  Now,  to  show  whether  or 
not  you  have  to  obey  my  orders  I’ll  give  you  another 
one,  and  I am  going  to  have  you  obey  it  right  here. 
Step  up  close  to  that  corner  and  look  at  the  wall  there 
for  five  minutes  by  my  watch.” 

I pulled  out  my  watch  while  the  chaplain 
promptly  did  as  I had  ordered.  After  the  expiration 
of  five  minutes  I said  to  him,  “Now,  you  go  and  mind 
your  own  business,  and  don’t  you  make  it  necessary 
for  me  to  correct  you  again.”  And  he  obeyed  that 
order,  too.  I still  had  the  discipline  of  the  9th  Im- 
munes  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand. 

The  9th  Immunes  had  been  through  some  rough 
experiences,  and  our  numbers  were  less  than  when  we 
landed  at  Santiago,  but  the  regiment  was  greatly 
benefited  by  the  loss  of  some  white  captains  and 
colored  lieutenants,  and  six  months  more  would  have 
enabled  me  to  bring  about  some  additional  similar 
changes  for  the  good  of  the  service.  Those  officers 
had  all  resigned. 

My  Quartermaster,  James  Ord,  a son  of  Gen.  E.  O. 
C.  Ord,  remained  at  Santiago  on  duty  with  the  Rural 
Police,  and  Ord’s  duties  were  then  performed  by  2nd 
Lieut.  Jones,  of  the  company  mustered  in  at  Houston. 


300 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Wood  and  Febiger  had  previously  been  promoted,  and 
my  Adjutant  during  the  last  few  months  of  our  service 
was  1st  Lieut.  James  Longstreet,  a son  of  the  famous 
Confederate  general,  and  a worthy  son  of  his  father. 

After  about  24  hours’ delay  at  the  quarantine  station, 
New  York  Harbor,  we  were  passed  on  in,  and  I never 
before  saw  anything  so  pretty  as  the  entrance  to  New 
York  that  day  in  May,  1899.  I could  not  refrain  from 
repeating  to  myself  those  lines  of  Walter  Scott, 
“Breathes  there  the  man  with  soul  so  dead,  etc.” 

The  next  morning  we  boarded  the  train  in  several 
sections,  and  went  on  straight  to  Camp  Meade,  Pa., 
about  30  miles  from  Harrisburg.  We  found  that  spot 
one  of  the  prettiest  and  best  for  a camp  that  I ever 
saw.  It  was  good  for  anything.  That  part  of 
Pennsylvania  is  beautiful. 

Camp  Meade  was  already  prepared  for  occupancy 
by  several  regiments,  and  we  found  also  a camp  com- 
mander, a captain  of  Engineers,  and  a camp  surgeon 
who  was  a major  of  regulars.  As  I was  senior  to  the 
Engineer  Captain  in  the  regulars,  and  was,  at  the  same 
time,  a colonel  of  U.  S.  Volunteers,  I had  the  idea 
that  I should  command  the  camp,  and  I requested 
information  from  War  Department  on  the  subject. 

I was  informed  by  the  Adjutant  General  of  the 
Army  that  the  captain  of  engineers  was  in  command 
of  Camp  Meade.  I swallowed  my  medicine  like  a 
little  man.  Pretty  soon  the  4th  Immunes,  Col.  Pettit, 
came  along  and  went  into  camp  alongside  of  me. 
Pettit  was  my  senior  in  rank,  and  he  had  the  same  idea 
which  I had  just  put  to  the  test,  and  he  wasn’t  satisfied 
with  the  answer  given  me,  so,  he  too  wrote  to  the  V ar 
Department  on  the  same  subject.  The  engineer 
captain  remained  in  command  of  Camp  Meade.  I 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


301 


managed,  however,  to  organize  and  keep  a regimental 
exchange, — notwithstanding  the  camp  commander’s 
decision  to  the  contrary. 

The  weather  was  fine  at  Camp  Meade,  and  the 
grounds  were  so  suitable  for  outdoor  work  that  I 
promptly  instituted  a system  of  drills,  giving  my  men 
good  instruction  and  at  the  same  time  enough  exercise 
to  put  and  keep  them  in  good  physical  condition.  I 
had  in  mind  the  old-time  adage,  “An  idle  mind  is  the 
devil’s  work  shop.” 

My  drills  and  parades  served  to  keep  both  mind  and 
body  busy.  But,  after  a few  days  there  came  a lot  of 
muster  out  officers,  and  their  spokesman  insisted  on 
making  so  much  use  of  my  officers  and  men  that  it 
practically  took  from  me  the  command  of  my  own 
regiment.  However,  I managed  to  retain  some  little 
authority  over  the  9th  Immunes,  and  till  the  26th  of 
May  we  had  close  order  regimental  drills  early  in  the 
morning,  and  in  the  late  afternoon  we  had  a regimental 
parade.  We  had  good  drills,  good  parades  and  good 
discipline. 

On  May  12,  1899,  the  regiment  went  to  Harrisburg 
to  take  part  in  the  unveiling  of  the  statue  of  General 
Hartranft,  that  colonel  of  Pennsylvania  Volunteers 
who  remained  and  took  part  in  the  Battle  of  Bull  Run 
that  21st  of  July,  1861,  after  his  regiment  had  refused 
to  do  so  and  had  marched  away  to  the  sound  of  battle. 
A battery  of  volunteers  also  insisted  on  doing  as  the 
infantry  volunteers  did.  Those  volunteers  had  to  be 
at  Washington  or  some  other  safe  place  on  the  very 
day  their  service  was  to  expire,  so  as  to  be  mustered 
out  that  day,  claiming  it  as  their  right,  and  they  won 
out.  Hartranft  took  part  in  the  battle,  and  after- 
wards rose  to  high  command,  and,  later  still,  was 


302 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


governor  of  his  state,  therefore  the  statue  and  our  trip 
to  Harrisburg. 

But  what  his  regiment  did  is  liable  to  happen  at  any- 
time when  we  use  short  term  volunteers,  and  it  had 
already  happened  years  before  that,  in  Mexico,  when, 
shortly  after  the  Battle  of  Cerro  Gordo,  General  Scott 
was  compelled  to  stop  his  victorious  march  to  the  city 
of  Mexico,  send  back  to  Vera  Cruz  about  half  his  army 
to  enable  them  to  be  mustered  out  in  safety,  thus 
causing  a delay  of  several  months  and  the  fighting  of 
various  other  battles,  for  which  the  Mexicans  prepared 
themselves  during  the  unexpected  rest  so  kindly  given 
them. 

At  Hartranft’s  statue  unveiling  the  regiment  looked 
and  marched  well,  and  won  favorable  comment. 
Several  days  after  that  we  had  to  turn  in  our  rifles,  and 
other  ordnance  property,  to  assist  the  muster  out 
people.  Naturally  it  was  considered  that  being  with- 
out rifles  we  would  discontinue  all  military  exercises, 
but  I knew  that  if  we  did  that,  our  discipline  would 
suffer  greatly.  Therefore  we  continued  our  regimen- 
tal drills  and  parades  exactly  as  before,  and  with  as 
much  success.  The  Band  did  not  have  to  turn  in  their 
musical  instruments  until  the  last  day  before  muster 
out,  which  took  place  on  May  26th. 

The  War  Department  allowed  every  volunteer,  who 
so  desired  it,  to  take  home  with  him  his  Springfield  rifle 
and  to  pay  for  it  on  the  final  muster  out  rolls.  My 
colored  men  from  New  Orleans  seemed  to  take  great 
interest  in  that,  and  in  one  company  thirty  men 
wanted  to  retain  their  rifles,  and,  as  individuals,  take 
back  with  them,  each  man  a rifle.  I understood  well 
what  they  were  thinking  about,  and  what  it  might 
result  in,  so  I compelled  them  all  to  box  up  and  ship 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


303 


their  rifles  home,  telling  them  that  it  had  required  four 
years  for  three  million  men  to  march  across  the  South 
with  rifles,  and  that  a few  hundred  rifles  in  their  hands 
would  get  them  into  big  trouble.  They  concluded 
that  I was  right,  and  they  shipped  the  rifles,  with  ex- 
cellent results. 

For  days  before  May  26th  the  railroad  agents  were 
in  our  camp,  drumming  up  trade,  and  the  result  was  a 
scattering  of  the  men  over  many  roads  en  route  back 
home  to  New  Orleans. 

As  before  remarked,  the  spokesman  for  the  muster 
out  officers  endeavored  to  use  my  officers  more  than  I 
was  willing  to  allow.  Finally,  several  days  before 
muster  out,  several  of  my  captains  absented  them- 
selves from  early  morning  drill,  alleging  compliance 
with  an  order,  given  them  by  the  said  spokesman  of  the 
muster  out  officers,  as  their  excuse.  I promptly  put 
my  delinquent  officers  in  arrest,  and  confined  them  to 
their  tents  till  the  morning  of  muster  out  day.  I 
released  them  from  arrest  at  reveille  on  the  last  day  of 
their  service. 

Muster  out  passed  very  quietly  and  smoothly,  and 
every  man  then  went  his  way.  I went  down  through 
the  South  to  New  Orleans,  taking  the  road  which  I 
thought  the  greatest  number  of  my  men  had  taken, 
for  the  reason  that,  only  a short  time  before,  there 
had  been  some  trouble  between  colored  troops  and 
civilians  as  the  said  soldiers  passed  along,  and  I wished 
to  be  on  hand  to  prevent  any  trouble  being  caused 
by  the  homeward  travel  of  my  men.  Nothing  hap- 
pened on  any  of  the  various  roads  taken  by  them,  to 
my  great  satisfaction. 

Before  leaving  Camp  Meade  I had  offered  to  fur- 
nish my  invaluable  assistant,  1st  Lieut.  J.  T.  Beckam, 


304 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


my  old  soldier  from  my  company  of  the  24th  Infantry, 
a recommendation  which  would  help  him  to  a com- 
mission in  colored  troops,  telling  him  that  in  the  near 
future  there  would  be  a call  for  colored  troops  for 
service  in  the  Philippines.  To  my  disappointment  he 
did  not  wish  for  anything  more  than  his  final  discharge, 
saying  that  he  did  not  intend  trying  it  again  in  the 
Army. 

I have  always  regretted  that  I did  not  give  him  the 
recommendation  anyhow,  knowing  the  mutability  of 
our  intentions.  Beyond  question  he  was  my  best 
colored  officer,  continuing  to  improve  all  the  time.  I 
attached  him  to  one  company  after  another,  to  do 
what  the  white  captain,  apparently,  wras  not  able  to 
to,  and  quickly  Beckam  brought  order  out  of  chaos. 
And  then,  to  my  utter  astonishment,  each  time  the 
captain  wanted  to  keep  him  a little  longer.  This  was 
marvelous,  and  all  the  time  my  colored  officer  from  my 
old  company  was  the  idol  and  model  of  the  enlisted 
men.  The  wonder  of  it  all  was  that  this  colored  man 
never  lost  his  head  in  the  slightest  degree. 

While  in  New  Orleans,  on  my  return,  I noticed 
newspaper  statements  that  the  colored  soldiers  had 
returned  very  much  improved  in  every  way,  especially 
in  behavior.  One  paper  expressed  the  wish  that 
“Crane  had  taken  them  all  away,  and  had  brought 
them  back  behaving  like  those  then  seen  on  the 
streets.” 

I renewed  my  friendly  relations  with  John  C. 
Febiger,  the  father  of  my  young  captain  who  had 
started  out  as  my  quartermaster,  also  with  Joseph 
Numa  Augustin,  the  father  of  my  2nd  lieutenant  in  the 
24th  Infantry.  I shipped  the  remains  of  young 
Augustin  home  from  Santiago.  I found  Mr.  Augustin 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


305 


utterly  broken  in  health,  and  partially  paralyzed. 
He  had  not  been  able  to  shed  a single  tear,  to  his  great 
misfortune.  While  the  other  members  of  his  family 
had  no  difficulty  in  finding  nature’s  relief  in  tears,  he 
was  outwardly,  just  the  same  as  before,  always  pleas- 
ant, affable,  most  kind  and  considerate.  In  a few 
months  more  he  was  dead,  the  only  person  I ever  knew 
to  die  from  a broken  heart.  Mr.  Augustin  was  a fine 
specimen  of  that  excellent  French  blood  in  the  old 
part  of  New  Orleans,  the  real  Creoles. 

At  Houston,  Texas,  I stopped  to  see  my  brother  Will 
and  his  family,  and  I found  with  him  my  older  sister, 
Annie.  In  her  I saw  a great  change.  She  walked 
with  uncertainty  and  difficulty,  the  result  of  a recent 
operation.  I never  saw  her  again,  for  she  died  the 
following  year  on  the  same  day  we  marched  down 
that  long  hill  to  Talisay,  on  Lake  Taal.  My  sister 
deserved  all  kinds  of  good  luck  and  happiness  in  this 
world,  and  she  did  not  receive  what  should  have  been 
hers. 

Just  before  leaving  Lancaster,  Pa.,  I got  a new 
woolen  khaki  uniform  from  that  excellent  tailor  and 
fine  man,  John  G.  Haas.  The  khaki  (cotton)  uni- 
forms which  I had  worn  in  Cuba  I had  bought  in  New 
Orleans  before  leaving  there. 

This  change  in  our  uniforms  was  the  best  change  I 
had  seen  in  our  service,  giving  us  cotton  khaki  for  hot 
weather,  and  woolen  khaki  for  cold  weather.  In  1895, 
after  returning  from  a practice  march  I recommended 
in  my  report  a change  of  color  for  our  uniforms  and  for 
tentage  to  that  of  dead  grass,  like  that  color  then  used 
in  clothing  made  for  hunters. 

I reported  for  duty  at  the  Presidio,  San  Francisco, 
Cal.,  on  July  6th,  1899,  and  I found  cold  weather 


306 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


there,  to  my  surprise.  Now  I know  that  such  is  the 
rule  in  that  city,  cold  weather  in  July  and  roses  in 
January,  as  I had  seen  in  1891,  when  I went  there  from 
Fort  Bayard  to  be  examined  for  promotion.  After 
seeing  a world  of  roses  in  ’Frisco  then,  I bought  straw- 
berries in  Los  Angeles  en  route  home. 

On  returning  to  the  24th  Infantry  I found  a new 
colonel,  Henry  Freeman,  also  a new  adjutant,  J.  D. 
Leitch,  the  first  of  the  captain  adjutants  under  the 
new  law. 

I had  known  Leitch  when  he  was  a cadet  in 
1888-9,  and  I had  seen  him  marry  the  daughter  of  an 
old  comrade  in  the  24th  Infantry.  He  became  an 
excellent  officer,  improving  every  opportunity.  I re- 
turned to  duty  as  a captain,  and  found  my  old  com- 
pany (“F”)  much  changed,  because  of  the  Spanish 
War.  William  Rainey  was  still  1st  Sergeant,  and 
Mitchell  Wilcox  my  second  sergeant,  but  I missed 
Beckam,  whom  I had  brought  up  from  private,  and 
had  made  him  what  he  was.  I missed  others,  too. 
Still  it  was  an  excellent  company,  and  I enjoyed  the 
few  days  hard  drilling  allowed  me,  getting  the  men 
into  better  shape.  I had  a new  2nd  Lieutenant  too, 
who  had  come  from  civil  life  and  who  was  in  great 
need  of  instruction  of  all  kinds. 

When  the  Army  was  increased  in  1898  quite  a 
number  of  junior  officers  came  in  from  civil  life,  and 
the  result  was  the  addition  to  the  Army  of  a number 
of  very  green  officers. 

I believe  that  I would  have  liked  duty  at  the 
Presidio  very  much,  but  my  stay  there  was  too  short 
for  me  to  form  any  associations  there,  or  in  the  city. 

Headquarters,  Band  and  the  2nd  Battalion  of  the 
regiment  sailed  from  San  Francisco  for  Manila  July 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


307 


13,  1899,  on  the  City  of  Para.  Capt.  Henry  Wygant, 
my  old  time  hunting  comrade,  was  in  command  of 
all  the  24th  Infantry  aboard,  and  Col.  Jacob  Augur, 
Cav.,  commanded  all  the  troops  on  board  the  trans- 
port. After  a day  or  two  Capt.  Wygant  put  me  in 
command  of  the  2nd  Battalion,  retaining  the  com- 
mand of  the  regiment. 

I immediately  requested  him  to  order  certain  in- 
struction in  the  drill  and  guard  manuals  for  the  young 
officers  from  civil  life,  and  to  put  me  in  charge  of  the 
work.  I made  good  use  of  the  opportunity.  I found 
that  a great  deal  of  instruction  was  needed,  and  that 
one  short  month  was  far  too  short  a time  to  accom- 
plish much,  but  still  it  was  a great  thing,  and  I have 
always  been  pleased  with  myself  for  making  the 
suggestion  to  Wygant. 

We  stopped  three  days  at  Honolulu,  and  each 
morning  we  marched  our  men  to  Tivoli  Beach  to  bathe 
and  swim  and  cut  their  feet  on  the  sharp,  pebbly 
bottom.  En  route  there  and  back  we  saw  immense 
flocks  of  ducks  in  the  ponds.  The  men  were  allowed 
no  liberty  on  shore.  That  was  consistent  with  24th 
Infantry  ideas  of  discipline  in  those  days,  when  we 
considered  ours  the  best  disciplined  and  most  efficient 
regiment  in  the  field  army,  but  afterwards,  when 
colonel  of  the  9th  Infantry,  I pursued  a different 
method,  allowing  more  liberty,  and  with  better 
results. 

Like  everyone  else  I marvelled  at  the  beauty  of 
Honolulu,  and  I enjoyed  eating  the  delicious  pine- 
apples which  seem  to  grow  better  there  than  anywhere 
else. 

The  City  of  Pari  was  a rough  ship,  and  we  had  some 
weather  which  gave  her  an  opportunity  to  roll  and 


308 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


pitch,  offering  to  most  of  us  good  reasons  to  rid  our 
stomachs  of  excess  bile. 

Daily  we  listened  to  the  stories  of  Jesse  M.  Lee,  and 
for  a month  I did  not  hear  of  his  repeating  a single 
story.  His  experience  had  been  wide,  and  many  of 
his  stories  told  what  he,  himself,  had  seen  and  heard. 
He  was  a fine  man  and  a good  friend,  and  he  gave  the 
Government  long  and  excellent  service,  being  espe- 
cially successful  in  the  handling  of  Indians,  which  fact 
caused  him  to  be  appointed  Indian  Agent  at  several 
different  places. 

We  arrived  at  Manila  August  9th,  went  ashore  two 
days  later,  and  for  several  days  we  of  the  24th  In- 
fantry occupied  some  “nipa  barracks”  in  the  city. 
“Nipa”  was  the  coarse  grass  used  in  making  the  roof 
and  sides  of  the  buildings,  after  the  fashion  followed  by 
the  Filipino  in  making  his  own  inexpensive  dwelling. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


The  buildings  at  Manila  attracted  my  attention 
very  much.  The  business  houses  and  the  better 
dwelling  houses  were  of  stone,  very  thick,  very  full  of 
windows  and  very  cool  for  that  climate.  Some  of 
those  fine  houses  had  beautiful  floors,  of  very  broad 
planks  of  fine,  hard,  mahogany  looking  wood,  and  in 
well  kept  houses  the  floors  were  brightly  polished  and 
shining.  The  windows  were  made  so  as  to  be  movable 
sideways,  thus  making  great  openings  in  the  houses, 
and  affording  excellent  ventilation.  Houses  for  the 
poorer  people  were  built  very  much  like  our  nipa 
barracks  in  Manila.  Many  of  them,  especially  those 
next  to  the  swamp  just  outside  of  Manila  were  raised 
up  on  stilts,  and  had  no  ground  floor.  I afterwards 
learned  that  this  style  of  house  was  most  commonly 
used  throughout  the  islands  by  people  of  the  lower 
classes,  the  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water. 

In  two  or  three  days  I was  sent  to  the  Pump  Station 
with  the  2nd  Battalion,  and  we  marched  out  to  the 
Maraquina  River,  about  nine  miles  distant.  That 
river  comes  down  from  the  mountains,  and,  uniting 
with  the  river  which  drains  the  Laguna  de  Bay,  forms 
by  the  junction,  the  Passig  River  which  passes  through 
Manila  and  gives  anchorage  to  many  ships.  At  that 
time  the  Passig  River  formed  almost  the  entire 
harbor  of  Manila,  allowing  ships  of  about  14  feet  draft 

309 


310 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


to  come  up  into  the  city  for  half  a mile.  At  the  pres- 
ent time  ships  of  much  greater  draft  can  enter  the 
city  by  the  river,  while  those  of  the  greatest  size 
may  anchor  alongside  the  piers  erected  in  the  harbor 
which  has  been  artificially  formed  by  American 
genius,  assisted  by  native  labor. 

At  the  Pump  Station  the  water  from  the  Maraquina 
River  was  diverted  into  a great  pipe  line  leading  on 
top  of  the  ground  into  Manila.  Our  special  duty  was 
to  protect  the  pump  station.  I have  no  idea  who 
watched  the  nine  miles  of  earthen  pipe.  My  battalion 
relieved  one  of  the  21st  Infantry,  commanded  by 
Capt.  Bonesteel,  Class  of  1876,  U.  S.  M.  A. 

We  had  several  small  row  boats,  or  skiffs,  of  Fili- 
pino make,  and  a rope  ferry,  the  boat  consisting  of  a 
number  of  small  boats  tied  together,  side  by  side,  and 
covered  over  with  a flooring  without  sides.  The 
current  was  depended  upon  to  carry  the  ferryboat 
across,  assisted,  when  necessary,  by  men  pushing  on  a 
long  pole.  The  big  rope  was  tied  to  a tree  on  each 
bank  of  the  river,  the  tree  on  our  side  being  about  one 
foot  in  diameter,  and  bending  a little  towards  the 
river. 

We  used  the  ferryboat  in  frequent  crossings  of  the 
river,  when  we  visited  the  village  on  the  other  side. 

Capt.  Augur  and  his  company  had  charge  of  the 
ferry.  We  had  been  at  the  Pump  Station  several 
weeks  when,  about  August  20th,  orders  came  from  our 
brigade  commander,  Brig.  Gen.  S.  B.  M.  Young, 
formerly  of  the  8th  Cavalry,  for  me  to  take  over  one 
company  and  go  up  to  the  scene  of  a recent  fight, 
towards  San  Mateo,  and  locate  the  enemy. 

Locating  the  enemy  meant  a fight,  and  the  previous 
one  had  been  fought  there  by  the  21st  Infantry 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


311 


battalion  and  some  4th  Cavalry,  so  I thought  out  a 
scheme  by  which  my  force  would  be  stronger  than  one 
company,  as  indicated  in  my  orders.  I would  take 
some  of  Augur’s  men  with  my  company,  and  have 
Augur  follow  with  the  balance  of  his  company  to  a 
village  half  way  and  await  my  return,  or  come  on  and 
reinforce  me  in  case  of  much  firing. 

We  had  heard  a great  deal  about  the  damage  done 
to  the  “point”  of  our  advance  guard  by  the  insur- 
rectos  with  their  first  volley,  after  which  they  would 
promptly  disappear.  So  I prepared,  in  my  mind,  a 
formation  which  would  make  a pot  shot  into  my 
advance  guard  an  impossibility,  by  giving  space 
between  men,  and  having  them  walk  in  Indian  file,  the 
main  body  following  at  a short  distance  in  the  same 
formation. 

Before  we  started  I ascertained  that  Lieut.  Geo.  H. 
McMaster,  who  was  going  with  me,  had  thought  out  a 
similar  formation,  and  he  told  me  of  it.  I was  pleased 
to  see  my  ideas  supported.  In  a few  months  our 
troops  all  over  the  islands  were  using  practically  that 
sort  of  march  formation  for  going  through  that  coun- 
try. In  my  practice  march  in  1895,  when  going  over 
the  mountain  trail  on  the  homeward  forced  march,  I 
used  that  formation,  and  I remembered  how  the 
winding  trail  enabled  me  to  dispense  with  flankers; 
therefore,  I was  merely  applying  the  lessons  of  pre- 
vious experience. 

Our  expedition  was  postponed  several  days  because 
of  a big  rise  in  the  Maraquina  River,  but,  finally  Capt. 
Augur  reported  that  the  river  was  sufficiently  low, 
and  the  ferry  all  right.  It  had  been  found  necessary  to 
make  some  repairs  on  it.  So,  early  one  morning,  we 
went  to  the  ferry,  and  while  our  troops  remained  on 


312 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


our  bank,  Augur  and  I and  several  other  officers  and 
four  or  five  enlisted  men,  made  a trip  across  the  river 
to  test  the  boat.  There  were,  as  I remember  it,  ten  of 
us.  The  ferry  worked  without  a hitch,  and  we  then 
returned  for  the  first  load  of  men. 

Our  test  had  not  been  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining 
how  many  men  the  boat  would  carry,  for  that  had 
already  been  done  by  our  predecessors,  who  told  us  of 
their  tests,  and  we  considered  that  we  would  have  a 
big  margin  of  safety. 

I loaded  the  ferry  boat  with  a smaller  number  of  men 
than  had  been  used  in  the  test  described  to  us,  and 
let  it  start,  there  being  two  officers  with  the  men. 
The  men  were,  many  of  them,  standing  up,  and  I did 
not  notice  such  a big  mistake  until  too  late.  The 
current  was  very  strong,  and  the  boat  had  gone  about 
25  feet  from  the  bank  when  the  anchor  tree  on  our  side 
bent  forward  towards  the  river,  giving  a little  slack,  at 
the  end  of  which  the  boat  was  stopped  with  a jerk,  and 
that  loosened  one  of  the  two  ropes  attaching  the  boat 
to  the  big  rope  stretched  across  the  river.  This 
allowed  the  rear  of  the  ferry  boat  to  swing  down 
stream,  and  in  some  places  to  go  lower  in  the 
water. 

The  men  got  stampeded,  those  that  were  kneeling 
rose  to  a standing  position,  and  the  boat  became  very 
unsteady.  There  was  no  danger  for  any  man  who 
would  stay  on  the  boat,  but,  I was  horrified  to  see  the 
men,  one  after  another,  jump  into  the  river,  all  loaded 
down  with  rifles  and  belts,  and  try  to  swim  out.  With 
all  my  might  I yelled  to  the  men  to  sit  down  and  stay 
on  the  boat,  telling  them  that  there  would  be  no  danger 
in  such  case.  But  even  the  two  officers  on  the  boat, 
McMaster  and  one  other,  followed  the  men  and 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


313 


jumped  off  into  the  river,  and,  before  I realized  it,  I 
saw  my  24  enlisted  men  and  two  officers  in  the  river, 
trying  to  swim  ashore,  all  loaded  down. 

There  were  a number  of  bamboo  poles  on  the  bank 
close  to  us,  and  I quickly  had  some  of  them  pushed 
out  into  water,  and  some  of  my  men  were  thus  pulled 
in  to  the  shore.  As  soon  as  I saw  the  rope  loosen  I 
began  taking  off  my  shoes,  preparing  to  swim.'  One 
after  another  my  men  disappeared  under  the  water 
until  nine  were  drowned.  A boat  was  gotten  out  to 
Lieut.  McMaster  just  in  time  to  save  him.  He 
immediately  went  on  after  other  men  and  saved  them 
too.  One  of  the  men  in  the  water  found  shallow  depth 
out  in  the  river,  but  he  was  not  strong  enough  to  swim 
to  the  shore.  I took  out  to  him  one  of  the  bamboo 
poles,  and  we  had  no  great  trouble  in  getting  back  to 
our  side  of  the  river.  He  would  have  drowned  if  not 
given  help. 

Through  the  irony  of  fate,  after  every  man  had 
jumped  off  into  the  river,  the  poor  ferryboat  swung 
back  to  its  starting  point  and  stayed  there.  This 
proved  that  there  would  have  been  no  danger  to  any 
man  who  should  have  remained  on  the  boat.  The 
worst  that  could  have  happened  to  any  man  remaining 
on  the  boat  would  have  been  a little  wetting  of  a part 
of  his  body,  no  more. 

The  loss  of  these  good  men  has  weighed  heavily  on 
me  for  many  years.  I was  glad  that  General  Young’s 
aide  de  camp,  Lieut.  Smedberg,  was  present  and  saw  it 
all,  both  the  preliminary  test  and  unfortunate  effort 
to  cross  the  men.  My  recollection  is  that  Lieut 
Smedberg  was  a participant  in  our  testing  of  the  boat. 

Being  ordered  to  that  duty  I was  going  to  give  my 
own  men  the  first  shot  at  the  insurrectos,  and  I built 


314 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


high  my  hopes  and  expectations  of  what  my  company 
would  do.  All  but  one  of  the  drowned  men  were  of 
my  own  company.  In  my  report,  promptly  submitted 
I described  fully  the  whole  affair,  and  invited  refer- 
ence of  it  to  Lieut.  Smedberg.  I recommended  a 
medal  of  honor  for  Lieut.  McMaster  for  his  cool 
courage  and  good  judgment  after  jumping  off  into  the 
water. 

The  river  continued  high  for  a number  of  days, 
carrying  the  bodies  of  my  drowned  men,  in  some 
cases,  clear  out  into  the  harbor  at  Manila.  Before  it 
was  considered  advisable  to  try  for  another  crossing 
I was  appointed  Lieutenant  Colonel  of  the  38th  U.  S. 
Vol.  Inf.,  and  on  the  28th  of  August  I reported  at  Ba- 
coor,  to  be  brigade  inspector  of  Brig.  Gen.  F.  D. 
Grant’s  brigade  -while  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  my 
volunteer  comrades  from  the  United  States. 

About  this  time  I received  a letter  from  my  9th 
Immune  colored  officer,  Lieut.  Beckam,  requesting 
me  to  assist  him  to  a commission  in  the  colored 
volunteers  then  being  raised  in  the  United  States. 
The  letter  was  written  only  a day  or  two  after  we 
sailed  from  San  Francisco.  Only  a week  earlier  and 
he  would  have  had  his  wish,  for  my  recommendation 
would,  at  that  time,  have  won  a captaincy  for  him. 
But  mails  were  received  monthly  in  the  Philippines, 
and  in  the  meantime  others  were  working  for  what  my 
man  wanted.  I regret  very  much  that  I did  not  cable 
a strong  recommendation,  but,  instead,  I wrote  it  to 
the  War  Department,  and  it  arrived  too  late. 

At  Bacoor,  about  ten  miles  from  Manila,  several 
companies  of  the  14th  Infantry  were  stationed,  and, 
three  miles  below,  on  a small  river,  were  stationed  all 
twelve  companies  of  the  4th  Infantry,  at  Imus.  Dur- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


315 


ing  the  four  months  I was  at  Bacoor  I performed,  part 
of  the  time,  the  duties  of  brigade  adjutant  also,  being 
all  the  time  brigade  inspector,  and  inspecting  each 
month  the  several  regiments  comprising  the  brigade. 
I inspected  monthly  the  troops  at  Imus,  Bacoor, 
Paranaque,  Las  Pinas,  Los  Bafios  and  Calamba.  The 
last  two  places  were  located  on  the  Laguna  de  Bay. 

At  that  time  we  were  on  the  defensive  in  the 
Philippines,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  regiments  of 
United  States  Volunteers  which  had  been  raised  to 
relieve  the  state  volunteers,  who  had,  in  great  part, 
composed  the  army  originally  sent  to  the  Philippines. 
The  48th  and  49th  regiments  of  new  volunteers  were 
colored,  including  captains,  and  I tried  hard  to  get 
for  Beckam  a place  with  them.  I visited  each  of  the 
regimental  commanders  and  learned  that  it  was  too 
late.  Col.  Duvall  informed  me  that,  under  the  law, 
promotions  in  the  regiment  must  be  filled  from  men 
already  in  the  regiment,  excepting  field  officers.  It 
was  too  late  to  get  a commission  for  the  best  colored 
soldier  that  I ever  served  with.  I have  no  idea  what 
became  of  him  but  I certainly  wish  him  all  manner  of 
good  luck. 

During  the  autumn  of  1899,  while  I was  stationed 
at  Bacoor,  there  were  several  skirmishes  on  the  road 
from  Bacoor  to  Imus,  the  road  for  much  of  the  distance 
following  the  various  bends  of  the  small  river,  which 
looked  to  be  deep.  I was  under  fire  a number  of  times, 
being  either  with  my  brigade  commander  or  in  com- 
mand of  troops.  On  one  occasion,  in  October,  General 
Grant  got  the  assistance  of  some  marines  from  the 
cruisers  Baltimore,  Boston  and  Raleigh,  the  same 
ships  which  had  taken  part  in  the  battle  of  Cavite, 
with  the  Spanish  fleet,  on  May  5th,  1898.  The  hulls 


316 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


of  most  of  the  Spanish  ships  were  still  visible,  the 
water  in  the  bay  being  shallow  where  they  were  sunk. 

On  the  occasion  in  question  thirty  men  from  each 
of  the  ships  named,  ninety  men  in  all,  were  put  under 
my  command,  my  left  flank  to  rest  on  the  river  as  we 
moved  towards  Imus.  The  marines  were  strong 
enough,  and  gallant  fellows,  but  they  did  not  take 
kindly  to  the  mud  and  bog  of  the  rice  paddies,  and  I 
didn’t  blame  them.  A little  shooting  here  and  there 
greeted  our  appearance  as  we  crossed  some  open 
ground,  but  no  marine  was  hit,  I am  glad  to  say. 

About  half  way  to  Imus  some  regular  infantry 
crossed  the  river  and  placed  themselves  on  my  left 
flank.  Among  the  officers  with  them  I recognized 
my  brother-in-law,  James  Mitchell,  my  former  9th 
Immune  surgeon,  who  had  come  out  to  the  Philippines 
as  a contract  surgeon.  I had  not  heard  of  his  coming. 
I saw  him  in  Manila  afterwards,  where  we  both  stayed 
at  the  headquarters  building  of  the  24th  Infantry, 
prepared  for  officers  of  the  regiment  who  might  happen 
to  be  in  Manila  temporarily.  After  remaining  in  the 
islands  about  a year,  James  returned  to  the  United 
States,  and  soon  began  to  feel  the  effects  of  tropical 
service. 

He  died  of  stomach  trouble;  a fine  man,  a good 
friend  and  an  efficient  officer.  I’ll  never  forget  how  he 
stood  beside  me  that  night  in  New  Orleans,  when  my 
men  wanted  to  go  to  town  to  fight  the  police. 

In  one  of  those  fights,  along  that  road  and  river, 
Capt.  Bogardus  Eldridge,  14th  Infantry,  was  killed. 
He  was  a gallant  officer  and  a fine  gentleman.  I 
stayed  with  him  at  old  Fort  Stanton,  N.  M.,  when  I 
went  there  on  court  martial  duty  a long  time  ago. 
Eldridge  was  shot  by  a Filipino  from  a short  trench. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


317 


or  rifle  pit,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  and  only 
about  50  yards  distant.  Capt.  Henry  J.  Reilly,  F.  A., 
had  a field  gun  or  two,  not  far  off,  and  he  hurried  to 
the  spot  with  one  of  them  and  blew  the  top  of  the 
trench  off.  A day  or  two  later,  I believe  it  was  when 
I was  with  the  Marines,  I saw  that  rifle  pit,  and  I did 
not  believe  that  the  native  was  hurt,  even  if  in  the 
hole  when  Reilly  used  his  cannon  on  him.  But,  he 
lost  no  time  in  getting  away  as  soon  as  he  could. 

When  I made  my  October  trip  up  the  Passig  River, 
and  across  the  Laguna  de  Bay  to  Calamba,  to  inspect 
the  21st  Infantry,  I found  that  regiment  just  return- 
ing from  a skirmish  that  same  morning.  In  those 
days  it  was  easy  enough  to  find  a scrap  with  the  natives 
at  any  hour  of  the  day.  It  was  necessary  to  go  only  a 
mile  or  two  from  post,  or  camp,  in  almost  any 
direction. 

As  a result  of  the  skirmish,  the  day  I was  with  the 
Marines,  I had  to  investigate  the  burning  of  some 
native  shacks,  nipa  huts,  along  the  road  from  Imus 
to  Binacayan,  a village  between  Cavite  Viejo  and 
Bacoor.  Our  men  had  become  a trifle  wearied  of 
being  ambushed  from  the  shelter  of  those  nipa  shacks, 
apparently  the  people  living  in  them  helping  or  doing 
the  ambushing,  so,  the  soldiers  set  fire  to  all  those 
shacks  for  more  than  a mile  on  the  road  mentioned. 
No  one  got  into  any  trouble  on  account  of  my 
investigation. 

General  Grant  was  sent  elsewhere  soon  after  that 
fight,  and  the  brigade  was  then  commanded  by  Colonel 
Aaron  S.  Daggett,  14th  Infantry.  About  November 
18th  I was  given  command  of  four  companies  of  the 
4th  Infantry,  two  troops  of  the  11th  Cavalry  (dis- 
mounted) and  two  pieces  of  Reilly’s  Battery,  and 


318 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


ordered  down  the  road  towards  Das  Marinas,  to 
reconnoitre.  I was  directed  to  await  the  return  from 
a reconnaissance  towards  San  Nicolas  of  the  main 
body  of  the  4th  Infantry  before  I could  leave  Imus. 
This  handicapped  me  very  much,  for  it  delayed  till 
after  mid-day  my  departure  from  Imus.  Until  then 
there  had  been  no  failure  to  get  a fight  on  that  road 
after  leaving  Imus  a half,  or  three  quarters  of  a mile. 

I divided  my  infantry  and  dismounted  cavalry 
into  two  battalions,  taking  one  company  from  Capt. 
Austin  Brown’s  four-company  battalion  of  the  4th 
Infantry  and  adding  it  to  Major  Dennis  Nolan’s  two 
(dismounted)  troops  of  the  11th  Cavalry. 

Twenty  picked  men  as  scouts,  under  Lieut.  Wray, 
4th  Inf.,  led  the  way,  marching  abreast  in  open  skir- 
mish line,  formed  across  the  broad  road.  The  other 
infantry  and  dismounted  cavalry  marched  down  the 
road  in  single  file,  with  plenty  of  distance  between 
men,  to  enable  them  to  walk  comfortably.  The  two 
pieces  of  artillery  were  placed,  according  to  my 
recollection,  immediately  following  the  second  com- 
pany of  the  leading  battalion,  which  was  that  of  Capt. 
Brown.  Two  ambulances  followed  the  rear  company, 
with  a strong  rear  guard  still  farther  to  the  rear. 

As  commanding  officer  I had  with  me  as  adjutant, 
Lieut.  Faulkner,  14th  Infantry,  who  did  good  service 
that  day,  galloping  back  and  forth,  along  the  road, 
much  of  the  time  under  fire.  There  was  lots  of  water 
in  the  rice  paddies  and  in  the  ditches  along  the  road. 
From  the  time  we  were  half  a mile  from  Imus  till  we 
had  returned  to  about  the  same  place  we  were  under 
fire,  sometimes  from  both  sides  of  the  road  at  the  same 
time. 

Now  and  then  one  of  our  men  would  be  hit,  and 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


319 


then  put  in  the  ambulance.  The  Filipinos  kept  them- 
selves so  well  under  cover  that  I can’t  say  that  I saw 
any  with  weapons,  though  some  of  them  were  at  times 
visible  in  the  high  grass  several  hundred  yards  away. 
Whenever  the  fire  got  hotter  than  usual  the  column 
would  be  halted,  and  we  would  do  our  best  to  locate 
and  punish  the  snipers.  Our  progress  became  slow,  as 
we  had  to  fight  our  way  along,  and  when  the  sun  was 
only  an  hour  high  we  were  four  miles  from  Imus. 

As  a reconnaissance  we  had  located  the  enemy  and 
had  scattered  every  body  of  natives  that  we  saw,  but 
we  never  knew  what  damage  we  did  with  our  rifles  and 
two  cannon.  When  a company  would  go  into  the 
fields  after  them  they  would  vanish,  and  our  men 
would  have  to  return  without,  apparently,  having 
accomplished  anything.  Finally  we  went  as  far  as  I 
thought  necessary,  the  firing  having  died  out,  and  then 
we  stopped  and  rested. 

After  half  an  hour’s  rest,  and  inspection  of  all  the 
empty  shacks  along  the  road  at  that  point,  we  started 
back  to  Imus.  We  had  rested  without  being  dis- 
turbed by  a shot,  and  the  natives  had  not  allowed  us 
to  get  anywhere  near  them,  and  there  was  nothing  to 
do  but  to  go  home,  the  same  way  we  had  come.  WTe 
made  the  “about  face,”  and  began  the  march,  and 
hardly  had  we  moved  two  hundred  yards  towards 
Imus  when  firing  began  from  both  flanks  and  the  rear. 
My  formation  and  plan  of  march  under  such  dis- 
agreeable conditions  were  as  follows: 

The  entire  column  faced  about,  and  the  two  pieces 
of  artillery  under  command  of  Lieut.  Manus  McClosky 
were  moved  towards  Imus  and  halted  between  the  two 
battalions,  and  a hot  fire  begun  by  all  who  could  see, 
or  in  any  other  way  locate  the  enemy. 


320 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


The  natives  would  then  be  quiet  for  a while,  and  the 
rear  battalion  would,  in  column  of  files,  pass  to  the 
head  of  the  column  followed  by  the  two  cannon,  the 
original  leading  battalion  increasing  the  fire  whenever 
the  enemy  appeared  or  would  fire  on  us.  All  the  time 
the  scouts  kept  closed  to  the  proper  distance  of  two  or 
three  hundred  years  from  the  rear  element  of  the 
company  at  that  time  in  rear  of  the  column.  By  an 
alternate  movement  of  battalions  the  march  back  to 
Imus  was  conducted  as  explained,  and  it  was  as  well 
done  as  such  a movement  could  be  done  under  fire. 
There  was  no  confusion  resulting  from  wrhat  was 
almost  a parade  ground  movement  executed  under 
fire. 

There  were  eleven  men  wounded,  none  killed,  or 
mortally  wounded.  We  reached  Imus  well  after 
dark,  and  then  Lieut.  Faulkner  and  I rode  on  alone  to 
Bacoor,  along  the  road  where  we  could  not  have 
ridden  during  daylight  without  being  shot  at. 

I had  accomplished  all  that  I was  told  to  do.  If 
allowed  to  start  several  hours  earlier  we  might  have 
been  able  to  do  more.  At  any  rate  it  would  have 
been  more  satisfactory  to  us,  to  have  had  more  day- 
light, more  time  to  locate  and  pursue  the  native  snip- 
ers. The  whole  movement  was  executed  skilfully  and 
well,  and  with  little  damage,  yet  I have  always  felt 
badly  over  that  affair,  the  same  as  regarding  my 
attempt  to  cross  the  Maraquina  River  three  months 
previously.  The  return  to  Imus  was  really  a move- 
ment in  retreat,  and,  at  the  same  time,  it  was  what  was 
expected  we  would  have  to  do.  We  had  to  return  that 
same  day,  having  no  rations,  or  other  preparations  to 
remain  out  all  night.  So  we  had  to  move  back  to 
Imus,  with  the  insurrectos  hanging  on  to  our  flanks 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


321 


and  rear  nearly  the  whole  distance,  which  was  surely 
very  disagreeable.  Most  of  our  wounded  were  hurt 
during  the  march  out. 

We  did  no  damage  to  property,  but  we  should  have 
burned  what  was  evidently  an  insurrecto  headquarters, 
and  all  adjacent  buildings  should  have  gone,  too. 
But  we  did  not  dare  to  do  it,  for  we  were  too  close  to 
Manila,  and  besides,  I had  only  recently  investigated 
the  14th  for  such  conduct. 

In  the  fight  described,  Major  Dennis  Nolan  showed 
up  particularly  well,  though  he  rashly  remained  the 
entire  time  on  his  big  black  horse,  a splendid  target. 
Every  time  I saw  him,  and  it  was  frequently,  he  was 
perfectly  cool,  he  had  even  a smile  on  his  face,  and  he 
executed  every  order  with  promptness  and  exactness. 
Lieut.  McClosky  handled  his  cannon  splendidly,  and 
in  thorough  enjoyment  of  the  maneuver,  especially  the 
fighting.  Lieut.  Chaney,  4th  Inf.,  also  distinguished 
himself  by  the  efficient  manner  in  which  he  handled  his 
company.  Unfortunately,  he  was  killed  a few  weeks 
later,  in  a fight  near  Imus. 

About  a week  after  the  skirmish  described,  on  the 
night  of  November  25th,  I believe,  the  insurrectos 
showed  their  strength  by  attacking  Imus.  From 
about  2 a.m.  till  almost  daylight  they  kept  up  a 
continuous  fire,  using  now  and  then  a small  cannon  of 
some  description,  which  we  heard  firing  from  time  to 
time  from  a safe  distance.  They  never  brought  it 
near  enough  for  us  to  be  able  to  locate  it.  From  my 
bed  at  Bacoor  I could  plainly  tell  that  our  people 
replied  in  volleys,  although  the  distance  was  about 
three  miles,  straight.  After  a while  the  firing  at  Imus 
slackened,  and  then  there  commenced  a lively  fusilade 
at  the  “Bloody  Bend,”  where  Capt.  Eldridge  shortly 


322 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


before  had  been  killed.  Lieut.  Nicklin  and  his  com- 
pany of  the  4th  Inf.  had  some  trenches  there,  and 
returned  better  than  they  received.  Finally  there 
was  some  firing  at  the  Bacoor  outposts,  where  day- 
light showed  one  or  two  dead  natives. 

As  a result  of  so  much  firing  only  two  or  three 
natives  were  positively  known  to  have  been  killed, 
and  no  one  on  our  side  was  hurt  except  a Chinaman 
at  Imus  who  exposed  himself  unnecessarily.  The 
firing  at  Imus  was  so  fast  for  about  two  hours  that  it 
resembled,  in  continuity  of  sound,  the  pouring  of 
small  shot  on  paper,  it  being  impossible  to  separate 
individual  sounds.  Yet  it  amounted  to  practically 
nothing,  so  far  as  concerned  any  damage  done,  on 
either  side. 

After  my  October  inspection  of  the  Inf.  at  Calamba 
I had  reported  certain  unsatisfactory  conditions 
existing  there,  and,  according  to  our  Army  Regulations, 
I was  directed  to  suggest  the  remedy,  and  I had  done 
so.  My  recommendation  had  been,  in  effect,  to 
substitute  for  the  two  companies  I had  found  located 
in  an  irrigating  ditch  a little  aggressive  activity 
beyond  the  small  river  close  to  Calamba,  thus  making 
it  impossible  for  an  insurrecto  to  remain  as  near 
as  a mile  to  the  river.  I recommended  certain  other 
changes,  in  the  interest  of  the  good  health  of  the 
companies  concerned. 

The  old  Colonel  of  the  — th  Inf.  had  previously  been 
a good  friend  of  mine,  and  in  my  original  report  I had 
refrained  from  suggesting  the  remedy  for  the  condi- 
tions reported,  giving  instead,  so  clear  a description  as 
to  make  it  unnecessary,  in  my  opinion.  Bub,  I was 
ordered,  by  telegraph,  to  submit  additional  report 
suggesting  the  remedy,  and  I did  so,  promptly. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


323 


In  making  my  next  inspection  of  Calamba  I tele- 
graphed to  the  Colonel  from  Bacoor,  and  I telegraphed 
again  from  Manila,  of  my  coming.  I did  so  because 
the  boat  landing  at  Calamba  was  about  a mile  from 
his  quarters  in  town,  and  there  were  no  soldiers  at  the 
landing,  or  near  it.  When  I arrived  at  Calamba  no 
one  was  at  the  landing  to  meet  me,  and  I had, 
therefore,  to  carry  my  suit  case  a long  mile  to  the 
Colonel’s  quarters.  I found  him  not  very  glad  to  see 
me,  which  I took  no  notice  of.  Next  morning  he 
made  an  opportunity  to  refer  to  my  recommendation 
about  “aggressive  activity  beyond  the  river.”  I 
stood  by  my  recommendation,  and  I made  it  very 
plain.  The  fine  old  man  was  nearly  64,  and  his  du- 
ties had  made  him  very  nervous. 

My  inspections  had  been  rather  easy  and  simple. 
One  of  the  items  I had  to  inquire  into  was  the  per- 
centage of  men  of  previous  service  in  each  new  volun- 
teer regiment  just  arrived  in  the  Philippines.  I found 
that  one  regiment  had  nearly  50  per  cent  of  such  men, 
and  none  had  less  than  30  per  cent. 

Some  of  our  men  deserted  to  the  insurrectos,  from 
both  white  and  colored  troops,  and  those  deserters 
gave  us  lots  of  trouble,  but  they  were  not  so  numerous 
as  to  be  organized  as  a company,  much  less  as  a 
battalion,  which  happened  in  the  war  with  Mexico, 
when  so  many  Irish  deserted  that  the  Mexicans 
organized  them  as  the  “San  Patricio”  Battalion 
which  fought  hard  against  us  in  many  fights,  and, 
finally,  was  annihilated  at  Chapultepec,  the  majority 
of  the  survivors  captured,  tried  by  Court  Martial  and 
executed. 

One  day,  at  Bacoor,  the  enlisted  men  of  the  14th 
Infantry  brought  to  the  headquarters  a man  whom 


324 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


they  claimed  to  be  a deserter.  The  General  was 
absent,  and  I examined  very  carefully  the  supposed 
deserter  from  our  Army. 

Then  I said  to  the  men,  after  trying  in  vain  to  get 
the  prisoner  to  talk  to  me  in  English,  or  in  Spanish, 
“Look  at  his  feet,  men,  see  how  wide  his  toes  are,  and 
how  the  big  toe  separates  so  far  from  the  rest.  It 
looks  like  he  has  climbed  many  a cocoanut  tree,  doesn’t 
it?”  And  they  had  to  admit  that  such  was  the  case. 

“And  his  mouth  and  teeth,  men,  all  discolored  from 
long  chewing  of  the  betel  nut.  No  American  soldier 
has  been  here  long  enough  to  work  such  a change. 
What  do  you  think?”  Again  the  men  had  to  admit 
that  it  looked  that  way. 

“ And  look  at  the  expression  of  his  face.  How  long, 
do  you  think,  would  it  take  for  an  American  soldier  to 
get  that  beastly  and  idiotic  expression?”  The  men 
shook  their  heads  and  admitted  that  they  had  made  a 
mistake. 

“He  is  one  of  nature’s  freaks,  men.  He  is  what  the 
Spaniards  call  an  ‘albino,’  and  undoubtedly  had  an 
American,  or  European  father  from  some  passing  ship, 
to  account  for  his  red  hair,  red  and  freckled  face,  blue 
eyes  and  big  frame,  but  he  is  only  one  of  the  biggest 
idiots  among  the  Filipinos.” 

I may  have  been  badly  mistaken  as  to  the  albino’s 
intellect.  I afterwards  learned  that  the  native  could 
put  on,  for  the  occasion,  various  expressions  of  the 
face  when  needed  as  a disguise. 

Late  in  December,  1899,  the  38th  Volunteers 
arrived,  and  went  into  camp  on  the  Luneta,  in  Manila. 
I was  immediately  notified  of  such  arrival,  and  ordered 
to  join  my  regiment  and  I hastened  to  report  for  duty 
as  its  lieutenant  colonel. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


325 


I have  never,  so  far  as  I know,  received  any  order 
relieving  me  from  duty  as  brigade  inspector,  and,  six 
months  after  joining  the  38th  Vols.  I was  ordered  on 
more  inspection  duty. 

While  at  Bacoor  I had  often  made  inquiries  among 
the  natives  from  Batangas  Province,  and  I learned 
that  Lipa  was  considered  to  be  the  nicest  town  in  that 
province,  or  in  any  other,  outside  of  Manila.  The 
last  word  in  description  of  the  town  was,  frequently,  to 
the  effect  that  Lipa  had  200  houses  with  galvanized 
iron  roofs,  and  many  rich  families. 

It  was  generally  believed  that  there  must  soon  be  a 
“Southern  Hike,”  or  campaign  through  the  provinces 
of  Laguna,  Batangas  and  Tayabas,  and  while  still  at 
Bacoor  I became  so  imbued  with  the  belief  that  my 
new  regiment  would  take  part  in  it  that  I used  to  tell 
my  comrades  at  Bacoor  that  I was  to  land  in  command 
of  Lipa  with  five  companies,  and  that  my  colonel 
would  go  to  Batangas  with  the  other  seven  companies. 
This,  for  weeks  and  weeks  prior  to  the  arrival  of  Col. 
Geo.  S.  Anderson  and  his  38th  Vols. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


From  our  camp  on  the  Luneta,  early  in  January, 
1900,  the  38th  Volunteers  marched  at  night  to 
Paranaque,  Las  Pifias  and  Bacoor.  I drew  Las  Pinas 
where  I remained  only  a very  few  days,  for  I was 
ordered  to  investigate  an  officer  of  the  37th  Vol.,  and 
for  that  purpose  I had  to  visit  his  post  on  the  upper 
Passig  River,  some  ten  miles  from  Manila.  On  thorough 
investigation  I found  nothing  against  the  officer,  and 
I so  reported  on  my  return. 

The  “Southern  Hike”  finally  began.  Generals 
Bates  and  Wheaton,  with  several  regiments,  including 
the  38th,  started  out  from  Imus.  Our  regiment  camped 
first  night  at  Das  Marinas,  about  ten  miles  from  Imus. 
A few  shots  were  exchanged  along  the  road,  with 
little,  if  any,  damage  to  either  side.  At  Das  Marinas 
I found  a nice  pool  to  bathe  in,  which  I did,  in  com- 
pany with  many  other  officers,  among  them  being 
James  Parker,  Class  of  ’76,  then  Lieut.  Col.  of  Dorst’s 
regiment  of  volunteers.  He  was  at  Calamba  during 
my  last  two  inspections  of  that  post. 

About  sunset  Colonel  Anderson  returned  to  camp 
with  written  instructions  which  he  handed  to  me  to 
read.  The  order  directed  him  to  proceed  that  night  to 
Silang,  and  next  day  to  Talisay  on  Lake  Taal,  and 
thence  to  go  into  Batangas  Province.  It  was  rather 
vague  and  indefinite  in  the  winding  up,  and  I promptly 

326 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


327 


proposed  to  my  colonel  that  we  go  to  Lipa  and 
Batangas,  and  from  the  latter  place  to  notify  head- 
quarters where  we  were.  This  seemed  to  please 
Anderson,  and  that  night  we  marched  about  ten  miles 
to  Silang,  and  slept  till  day  in  the  road,  and  after 
breakfast  we  continued  our  hike  to  Talisay.  This  day 
was  January  11,  1900,  on  which  same  day  my  sister 
Annie  died,  back  in  God’s  Country. 

The  entire  march  from  Bacoor  to  the  bluffs  above 
Talisay  was  one  steady  and  very  gradual  rise,  at  no 
time  amounting  to  a hill,  yet  when  we  arrived  at  those 
bluffs  overlooking  Lake  Taal  we  found  that  we  were 
many  hundred  feet  above  the  waters  of  that  lake,  and 
that  we  could  look  down  into  the  smouldering  crater 
of  the  volcano  on  the  little  island  in  the  middle  of  the 
lake.  A long  halt  was  made,  to  allow  all  of  us  to  enjoy 
the  beautiful  panorama  presented  to  our  view.  I have 
never  seen  its  equal  anywhere  else. 

We  saw  Manila  back  in  the  distance,  and  straight 
ahead  was  spread  out  the  entire  lake,  volcano,  and 
river  draining  the  lake  into  salt  water  near  Taal.  To 
our  south  we  could  see  Batangas,  Bauan  and  Taal, 
three  of  the  largest  towns  outside  of  Manila,  all  on 
salt  water,  and  beyond  them  were  several  little  islands 
and  finally  a big  island,  Mindoro.  To  the  north  we 
saw  the  Laguna  de  Bay,  and  one  or  two  islands  in  it. 
Beyond  Lake  Taal,  in  our  front,  we  saw  mountain 
ranges  the  other  side  of  Lipa.  I have  never  seen 
anywhere  else  any  natural  landscape  to  compare  with 
that,  for  beauty  and  variety. 

After  resting  at  that  spot  about  half  an  hour  we 
began  the  descent  to  Talisay,  situated  on  the  lake. 

The  path  was  very  steep,  winding  and  narrow.  In 
some  places  much  travel  had  cut  deep  trenches  in  the 


328 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


soil,  like  railroad  cuts,  only  much  more  narrow.  When 
about  300  yards  from  the  lake  level  the  insurrectos 
opened  fire  on  us  from  the  jungle  on  the  flanks  and 
in  front.  We  returned  the  fire,  but  I can’t  say  that  I 
saw  an  armed  enemy.  We  had  one  man  hit,  and  I 
doubt  if  our  firing  did  any  greater  damage,  still  it  was 
a skirmish,  and  the  Filipinos  should  with  proper 
handling  and  better  marksmanship,  have  inflicted 
serious  loss  on  us.  But,  they  rarely  showed  any  heart 
for  a real  scrap,  and  usually  let  out  all  their  courage 
in  one  volley  at  the  advance  guard  point,  and  then 
they  ran.  The  38th  Vols.  was  organized  at  Jefferson 
Barracks,  Mo.,  and  had  a number  of  regulars  and 
ex-regulars  among  the  officers,  including  the  colonel, 
Anderson,  the  lieutenant  colonel  myself,  and  three 
majors,  Muir,  Holbrook  and  Glennan,  the  last  being 
regimental  surgeon,  and  a fine  one. 

The  adjutant  was  an  ex-cadet  from  West  Point,  and 
the  quartermaster  had  been  a non-commissioned  officer 
of  regulars.  Other  officers  had  seen  service  in  previ- 
ously raised  volunteers,  among  them  my  captain  in 
the  9th  Immunes,  Robert  M.  Nolan,  an  excellent 
officer.  About  30  per  cent  of  the  enlisted  men  had 
seen  previous  service,  either  with  regulars  or  with 
volunteers.  This  sprinkling  of  regulars  among  the 
high  up  officers,  assisted  by  other  officers  of  previous 
service,  also  by  the  30  per  cent  of  enlisted  men  of 
former  service,  soon  made  the  regiment  a fine  one. 

We  remained  at  Talisay  till  next  morning,  when  we 
started  around  the  north  end  of  the  lake  to  Tanauan. 
While  we  were  going  around  the  end  of  the  lake  there 
occurred  a lamentable  tragedy  somewhere  along  that 
long,  crooked,  winding  and  steep  path  down  which  we 
had  marched  the  previous  day.  Lieut.  Stockley,  of 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


329 


the  Infantry,  was  with  Lieut.  Mervin  Ruckey,  F.  A., 
at  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  he  volunteered  to  go  down 
and  find  us,  somewhere  at  the  bottom.  They  had  two 
light  field  pieces,  on  pack  mules,  and  they  wished  to 
overtake  us.  We  knew  nothing  at  all  of  their  being 
there,  or  of  their  intentions.  In  his  efforts  to  reach  us 
Stockley  was  alone,  and  was  never  seen  again,  and 
no  certain  information  was  received  afterwards  as  to 
what  became  of  him. 

Several  miles  before  reaching  Tanauan  we  saw 
Col.  Bullard  and  some  of  his  regiment,  the  39th  Vols. 
that  I had  inspected  at  Calamba  a couple  of  times. 
We  saw  a battalion  of  the  37th  Vols.,  also  Lieut. 
Summerall  with  two  pieces  of  Reilly’s  battery.  All 
these  people  had  come  out  from  Calamba,  the  old 
colonel  of  the  21st  Infantry  being  no  longer  in  com- 
mand there. 

We  persuaded  Bullard  to  go  with  us,  also  Summerall. 
That  night,  the  12th  of  January,  we  spent  in  Tanauan, 
and  the  next  morning  we  started  for  Lipa.  When 
several  miles  out  from  Tanauan,  the  38th  Vols.  being 
in  front,  we  had  quite  a spirited  skirmish,  and  killed 
seven  or  eight  insurrectos,  and  lost  one  or  two  of  our 
good  men.  The  39th  Vols.,  excepting  one  company, 
also  the  rear  battalion  of  the  38th,  remained  in  the 
road,  showing  that  the  fight  was  easily  won  by  us, 
and  then  we  resumed  our  march. 

On  arriving  at  Lipa  we  saw  at  the  windows  of  the 
biggest  and  best  houses  many  Spanish  prisoners  wav- 
ing hats,  hands  and  handkerchiefs  at  us,  and  soon  we 
saw  those  men  in  the  street,  about  130  of  them,  all 
wildly  delighted  and  loud  with  “vivas”  for  the 
“Americanos.”  There  were  quite  a number  of  officers 
among  those  prisoners,  one  of  them  being  the  colonel 


330 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


who  had  been  in  command  at  Lipa.  He  had  held  the 
convent  and  big  church  until  wounded,  and  then  he 
surrendered  the  town  and  garrison.  He  was  stationed 
in  the  church  tower  when  he  was  wounded. 

From  the  prisoners  we  immediately  inquired  about 
the  former  garrison,  and  their  whereabouts,  also  con- 
cerning American  prisoners,  especially  Ensign  Gilmore 
of  the  Navy.  This  young  naval  officer  had  been  cap- 
tured at  Baler  some  months  previous,  and  he  was 
being  looked  and  searched  for  by  every  Army  detach- 
ment, ourselves  no  exception.  We,  too,  wanted  to 
rescue  Gilmore. 

We  were  informed  by  those  Spanish  prisoners  that 
the  insurrectos  had  retreated  down  the  road  to 
Rosario,  a town  of  several  thousand  inhabitants  and 
about  six  miles  distant,  also  that  they  had  a number  of 
American  prisoners.  Cols.  Anderson  and  Bullard 
seemed  possessed  with  the  idea  of  instantly  following. 
Our  advance  guard  point,  on  foot,  had  by  that  time 
begun  to  arrive.  We  mounted  officers  had,  in  our 
eagerness,  ridden  ahead  of  the  troops  a little. 

Mounted  officers  and  mounted  orderlies  were  hastily 
counted,  and  inquiry  made  for  a guide,  and  the  Span- 
ish prisoners  promptly  furnished  one.  Captain 
Martinez  was  immediately  given  a government  horse 
which  a mounted  orderly  had  been  riding.  I reminded 
Col.  Anderson  that  it  was  very  reckless  and  desperate 
to  pursue  a retreating  force  of  uncertain  strength  with 
only  a dozen  men.  He  remarked  that  he  couldn't 
miss  an  opportunity  to  rescue  Gilmore.  And  Bullard 
called  out,  “Come  on,  Crane.” 

I have  never  been  rash,  but  I felt  that  I had  to  join 
in  this  foolhardy  dash  on  Rosario,  or  show  the  white 
feather.  So  I said,  “All  right,  then,  I’ll  go  with  you, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


331 


but  I’ll  go  prepared  to  fight  a little.  I want  a rifle, 
and  belt  full  of  cartridges.”  All  the  officers  then 
promptly  followed  my  example,  and  armed  them- 
selves, not  having,  apparently,  thought  of  it  till  then. 

Captain  Martinez  was  a fine  specimen  of  the  Span- 
ish officer.  He  started  down  that  road  to  Rosario  at  a 
fast  gallop,  and  we  stopped  only  once  or  twice  on  the 
way.  Once  we  stopped  to  take  a fine  bolo  (Filipino 
made  sword)  from  a native  and  give  it  to  Martinez, 
for,  till  then,  he  had  no  weapon.  We  were  a dozen 
mounted  men,  but  at  our  first  halt  we  sent  back  one 
of  the  party  to  bring  on  two  infantry  companies.  I 
rode  a big,  black  government  horse,  very  fat  and  very 
slow,  so  that  I brought  up  in  the  rear  all  the  way  to 
Rosario.  Martinez  was  well  ahead  all  the  time,  and, 
now  and  then,  he  would  look  back  and  wave  us  on. 

Along  the  entire  distance  there  were  flying  fugitives 
from  Lipa  crowding  the  road,  till  we  arrived  within 
150  yards  of  them,  when  the  rear  of  the  mob  would 
melt  away,  out  in  the  fields  on  both  sides  of  the  road. 
Once  in  the  fields  they  vanished  easily,  and  quickly. 
When  we  got  in  the  streets  of  Rosario  our  little  army 
scattered,  pursuing  different  parties  down  different 
streets,  and  I actually  found  myself  galloping  along 
with  no  one  ahead  of  me. 

About  that  time  I discovered  the  big  church  and 
convent,  and  started  for  it,  alone.  I remembered  how 
the  convent  was  usually  occupied  by  the  garrison  of 
a town,  and  I hoped  to  find  something  there,  and  I 
was  not  disappointed.  Soon  I saw  heads  at  the  con- 
vent windows.  While  I was  tying  my  horse  30  yards 
from  the  building  I saw  Spanish  prisoners  coming 
down  the  steps  at  the  front  entrance,  and  I met  them 
there.  They  were  shouting  “Viva  Americanos”  and 


332 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


perhaps  other  words,  and  they  wanted  to  hug  me  and 
tell  me  how  they  loved  the  Americans. 

Either  Beverly  Read,  Regimental  Adjutant,  or 
Lieut.  W.  G.  Doane,  Battalion  Adjutant,  joined  me 
that  instant.  After  much  effort  to  learn  from  our 
Spanish  friends  where  to  find  their  former  guard  of 
Filipinos  I ascertained  that  the  valiant  five  insurrecto 
soldiers  had  fled,  early  in  the  game.  Then  our  party 
began  to  collect  at  the  church  and  convent . No  one  had 
killed  anybody,  or  had  captured  any  important  prisoner. 

Once  or  twice  a Spanish  prisoner  tried  to  tell  me 
something  about  “mucho  dinero”  (lots  of  money), 
but  I had  so  often  heard  that  said  of  Americans, 
usually  a prelude  to  begging,  that  I failed  to  get  the 
man’s  meaning.  Colonel  Bullard  had  more  patience, 
and  he  learned  from  that  man  that  the  “Presidente” 
(Mayor)  of  Rosario  had  in  his  yard  many  boxes  of 
silver  money,  all  ready  to  be  carried  away  in  a cart. 
We  hurried  to  that  yard,  and  there  we  saw  about 
twenty  boxes,  nailed  up  and  heavy.  On  being  well 
shaken  some  of  them  gave  unmistakable  sounds  of 
metal,  and  that  called  for  further  investigation.  One 
box  was  partly  opened,  and  it  was  found  to  contain 
silver  coin,  mostly  Spanish  pesos,  worth  half  a 
dollar  each. 

We  took  from  the  enterprising  Spanish  prisoners  a 
caromata  (two  wheel  buggy)  and  pony,  and  put  half 
the  boxes  in  it,  and  we  put  the  other  half  of  the  boxes 
in  another  caromata,  and  told  our  liberated  Spaniards 
to  bring  it  on,  and  then  we  started  back  to  Lipa. 
Before  starting  back  another  messenger  was  sent,  to 
hurry  on  the  two  companies  of  fighting  soldiers.  The 
second  messenger  was  Captain  Read,  the  Adjutant 
of  the  regiment.  I took  special  charge  of  the  two 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


333 


vehicles  loaded  with  money,  and  I soon  noticed  that 
Lieut.  Doane  was  with  me.  I also  noticed  that  the 
others  got  uncomfortably  far  in  advance  of  us.  A 
mile  or  two  from  Rosario  we  saw  a pony  tied  up,  in  a 
yard  along  the  road,  and  I had  one  of  our  Spanish 
substitutes  for  horses  go  and  get  it,  and  then  hunt 
up  some  kind  of  harness  to  attach  the  pony  to  the 
caromata.  After  that  our  progress  was  faster.  Two 
miles  from  Rosario  we  met  the  two  companies,  and 
our  travel  back  to  Lipa  was  no  longer  dangerous. 

We  had  captured  some  twenty  thousand  pesos  of 
what  we  believed  to  be  insurrecto  funds,  and  we  had 
released  about  130  Spanish  prisoners  at  Lipa,  and  70 
more  at  Rosario. 

I believe  that  when  the  Spanish  prisoners  rescued 
at  Lipa  learned  that  we  were  looking  for  American 
prisoners  to  rescue,  they  purposely  deceived  us  about 
their  being  in  Rosario,  in  the  hope  that  our  rapid 
ride  there  would  liberate  their  own  comrades  impris- 
oned at  that  place.  I never  blamed  them  one  bit  for 
that  small  piece  of  deception,  and  Capt.  Martinez 
was  a fine  fellow. 

In  the  ride  to  Rosario  there  took  part  two  colonels, 
one  lieutenant  colonel,  one  major,  one  or  two  captains 
and  one  or  two  lieutenants,  besides  several  mounted 
orderlies  and  Capt.  Martinez. 

Perhaps  we  would  have  gone  on  to  San  Jose  that 
same  day  but  for  the  arrival  of  a mounted  messenger 
from  General  Schwan,  with  orders  for  all  of  us  to  halt 
and  wait  for  him. 

We  obeyed  the  order.  I have  always  believed  that 
the  hike  breaking  into  those  provinces  of  Cavite, 
Laguna,  Batangasand  Tayabas  was  intended  to  pave 
the  way  for  a small  shower  of  stars,  and  that  we  got 


334 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


into  some  other  man’s  apple  orchard,  and  spoiled 
some  plans. 

We  rested  at  Lipa  the  next  morning,  and  in  the 
afternoon  we  started  towards  Batangas,  using  both 
roads,  the  38th  going  to  San  Jose  and  bivouacking 
there  for  the  night.  Really,  we  bivouacked  every 
night,  sleeping  somewhere,  and  we  got  something  to 
eat  somehow,  mostly  by  cooking  it  ourselves  in  our 
meat  cans  and  tin  cups.  During  the  entire  hike  from 
Bacoor  to  Batangas  and  back  to  Lipa  I cooked  my 
own  food  and  fed  my  own  horse.  I don’t  know  which 
fared  the  worse,  my  horse  or  myself.  I know  that  my 
good  black  horse  was  much  neglected,  and  my  after 
troubles  with  my  stomach  I have  attributed  greatly 
to  my  having  eaten  so  much  food  of  my  own  cooking. 

We  stopped  only  a couple  of  days  at  Batangas, 
part  of  the  regiment  going  to  Bauan,  the  main  body 
of  our  little  army  under  Gen.  Schwan  going  on  through 
Tayabas  Province  and  back  through  that  of  Laguna. 

Headquarters,  Band  and  1st  Battalion  of  the  38th 
remained  in  garrison  at  Batangas,  the  3rd  Battalion 
took  station  at  Rosario,  and  I went  back  to  Lipa  with 
Major  Holbrook  and  the  2nd  Battalion.  We  left 
Bauan  for  Lipa  after  supper,  and  marched  as  far  as 
San  Jose,  where  we  stopped,  cooked  another  square 
meal  and  rested  till  day.  I came  very  near  being  a 
true  prophet  regarding  my  station  at  Lipa.  I got  the 
main  essentials  correctly. 

As  a result  of  the  operations  from  Das  Marinas  to 
Lipa  and  Rosario  I received  the  following  commenda- 
tion from  my  regimental  commander: 

“Extract  from  report  of  Col.  Anderson,  of  oper- 
ations of  the  38th  Infantry,  from  10th  of  January  to 
14th  January. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


335 


But  I did  observe  acts  of  particular  heroism  on  the 

part  of , Lieut.  Col.  Crane,— — , and  I commend 

for  their  gallantry,  and  those  who  followed  him 

to  Rosario  (Lieut.  Col.  Crane,  was  among  this  number). 

Headquarters  38th  Vol.  Inf., 

Batangas,  Luzon,  P.  I. 

July  16,  1900. 

Official  copy  furnished  Lieut.  Col.  Crane,  38th  Vol. 
Inf.,  for  his  information. 

By  order  of  Col.  Anderson: 
(Signed)  B.  A.  Read, 

Capt.  38th  Vol.  Inf. 

Adjutant. 

Lipa  was  about  the  richest,  most  enlightened  and 
best  blooded  town  in  the  islands.  A native  told  me 
that  “when  we  had  coffee”  there  were  a dozen 
millionaires  in  the  place.  But,  a bug,  or  a worm  got 
at  the  coffee  bush,  and  during  my  ten  months  at  Lipa 
I saw  only  one  or  two  quarts  of  native  coffee.  The 
insects  had  done  well  their  work  of  destruction.  The 
limits,  or  “ comprension  ” of  Lipa  extended  nine  miles 
by  ten,  forming  a rectangle,  and  containing  45  barrios, 
or  precincts.  About  three  fourths  of  all  the  land  out- 
side city  limits,  of  ten  thousand  people  living  in  the 
town  proper,  was  owned  by  not  more  than  five  fam- 
ilies, and  those  families  had  many  houses  and  lots 
in  the  city  itself. 

It  was  a common  thing  to  hear  a man  speak  of  his 
“barrio  so  and  so”  just  ougtide  of  town,  where  we 
knew  there  was  quite  a church  and  a village  of  50 
to  a 100  houses.  The  great  body  of  those  people,  while 
under  the  Spaniards,  were  really  slaves  through 
peonage.  That  was  explained  to  me,  by  an  influential 


336 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


native,  as  having  been  brought  about  in  the  following 
manner : 


“ A young  native  wishes  to  marry,  or,  perhaps  he  is 
already  married  and  has  nothing  for  himself  and  bride 
to  live  on,  so  he  goes  to  a land  owner  and  states  his 
case.  The  land  owner  willingly  accepts  a new  tenant. 
He  has  a small  farm  measured  off  and  assigned  to  the 
young  man,  also  one  or  two  work  animals  and  some 
farm  implements,  and  the  young  people  begin  life. 
With  only  his  bolo  the  young  Filipino  builds  a shack 
on  stilts,  like  those  of  his  neighbors.  He  uses  the 
same,  or  a heavier  bolo  as  an  ax,  or  hatchet,  and  cuts 
down  small  trees,  bushes  and  grass  with  it,  uses  the 
bodies  of  small  trees  for  rafters,  uprights  and  strong 
beams,  and  of  the  grass  he  makes  a roof  for  his  house, 
the  same  grass  and  some  vines  furnishing  him  with 
something  with  which  to  tie  the  grass  and  all  manner 
of  beams.  Not  a nail,  nor  a saw,  nor  a hammer,  is 
used  in  the  building  of  such  a house,  and  there  are 
many  thousand  such  houses  in  the  islands. 

“ Food  of  the  simplest  kind  is  advanced  the  young 
people,  and  anything  else  desired  by  them  is  readily 
supplied  by  the  gracious  land  owner,  who  keeps  a strict 
record  of  everything.” 


The  result  is,  that  family  never  emerges  from  debt, 
no  matter  how  hard  they  try.  The  other  man  has  the 
books,  which  are  always  made  to  show  a heavy  balance 
against  the  poor  peon,  and  he  remains  practically  a 
slave,  and  his  children  are  in  the  same  condition,  and 
their  descendants  continue  so.  In  this  manner  the 
rich  land  owner  had  the  opportunity  to  collect  hun- 
dreds and  even  thousands  of  slaves  for  debt,  and  he 
did  it.  Many  others  did  it.  Under  Spanish  rule  those 
poor  peons  could  not  go  elsewhere  and  begin  a new 
life  so  long  as  the  landlord  insisted  that  his  books 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


337 


showed  that  “Pedro,”  or  “Jose”  owed  him  “so 
many”  pesos. 

One  day  at  Lipa  that  same  influential  native  came 
to  me  and  requested  me  to  compel  a young  woman, 
a “ dependiente  ” of  his,  to  return  to  him.  I had  to 
inform  him  that  we  recognized  no  such  institution  as 
a state  of  peonage  like  that  he  had  described  to  me, 
and  that  the  matter  of  employer  and  employee  was 
one  to  be  settled  by  the  agreement  of  the  people  con- 
cerned, and  not  according  to  the  wishes  of  only  one 
of  them.  I never  heard  of  the  case  again. 

Nearly  thirty  thousand  of  the  forty  thousand  people 
accredited  to  Lipa  belonged  to  the  class  of  peons  just 
described.  Of  course  our  stay  in  the  islands  has 
greatly  disturbed  such  a condition,  but  I do  not 
believe  that  peonage  is  entirely  extinct,  or  that  it  will 
cease  to  exist  for  many  years  to  come. 

Lipa  is  seven  miles  from  San  Jose,  and  from  that 
place  to  Batangas  it  is  about  sixteen  miles.  Cuenca, 
on  Lake  Taal,  is  eight  or  ten  miles  from  Lipa.  From 
Lipa  to  Tanauan  the  distance  is  about  thirteen  miles; 
thence  to  Santo  Tomas  five  more,  and  from  the  last 
named  place  to  Calamba,  on  the  Laguna  de  Bay,  some 
ten  more.  As  previously  stated,  the  distance  from 
Lipa  to  Rosario  is  six  miles.  In  the  beginning  we  had 
garrisons  at  Rosario,  Lipa,  Tanauan,  Santo  Tomas, 
Batangas,  Taal  and  Calamba.  Lipa  was  a central 
point,  and  troops  and  transportation  passed  through 
there  very  frequently. 

Most  of  our  supplies  came  from  Batangas,  and  each 
garrison  of  the  38th  Inf.  furnished  its  own  transpor- 
tation and  escort  of  soldiers.  This  made  lots  of  work 
for  us,  and  it  gave  the  natives  many  opportunities 
to  annoy  us,  of  which  they  did  not  often  avail  them- 


338 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


selves.  From  Rosario  the  3rd  Battalion  transportation 
had  to  pass  through  Lipa  and  San  Jose  in  going  to 
Batangas  under  escort  every  time  that  battalion 
wanted  supplies.  On  one  occasion  a young  lieutenant 
of  the  3rd  Battalion,  with  a detachment  of  25  men, 
escorted  a wagon  train,  and  he  stopped  midway  be- 
tween San  Jose  and  Lipa,  en  route  from  Batangas, 
and  lunched  there,  both  men  and  animals,  intending 
to  come  on  through  Lipa  and  reach  Rosario  the  same 
afternoon. 

I was  at  mid-day  dinner  with  my  officers  when  we 
were  suddenly  informed  by  a bareback  mounted 
messenger  from  the  wagon  train  that  the  train  and 
escort  were  being  attacked  at  the  spot  where  the 
creek  and  the  road  ran  close  together  for  several 
hundred  yards,  the  road  for  that  distance  being 
fifteen  or  twenty  feet  lower  than  the  ground  50  to  75 
yards  away,  on  both  sides,  and,  with  the  thick 
jungle  at  the  rising  ground  the  location  offered  fine 
opportunity  for  ambuscade.  The  chief  wonder  was 
that  the  Natives  did  not  use  that  place  for  such 
purpose  oftener. 

The  train  had  been  halted  for  lunch  in  that  place, 
had  lunched  and  fed  the  mules,  and  then,  when  the 
hitching  up  began,  there  was  an  interruption  from 
the  insurrectos,  who  were  posted  along  the  high 
ground,  in  the  thickest  jungle.  An  ideal  spot  for  an 
ambuscade!  No  experienced  soldier  could  imagine  it 
a proper  place  to  halt  in  for  such  a purpose,  under 
the  conditions  then  existing  in  the  islands,  and  that 
halt  can  be  accounted  for  only  by  the  youth  and  short 
service  of  the  lieutenant  in  command. 

In  five  minutes,  with  three  companies,  we  were 
going  down  that  road  as  fast  as  men  can  walk  for  four 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


339 


miles.  I rode  my  big  black  horse  and  was  in  front 
excepting  for  the  point  which  was  some  200  yards 
ahead  of  me.  We  made  no  halt,  and  after  half  an  hour 
of  marching  we  could  see,  ahead  of  us,  much  smoke 
where  we  expected  to  find  the  wagons.  Of  course  I 
thought  the  wagons  were  burning  in  front  of  me,  and 
then  we  went  a little  faster.  After  a little  longer 
we  saw,  far  in  front  of  us,  a solitary  man  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  road,  apparently  on  outpost  duty. 
At  first  I believed  him  a native,  but  soon  I recognized 
the  attitude  and  bearing  of  the  American  soldier,  and 
then  I knew  that  the  train  was  safe. 

But  we  did  not  slacken  our  pace,  and  soon  we 
reached  the  sentinel  in  the  road,  and  from  him 
learned  that  the  wagon  train  had  passed  through  the 
gulch.  Going  on  we  passed  by  the  train  and  went  down 
into  the  gulch,  after  sending  Capt.  Nolan  and  his 
company  to  go  through  those  places  where  I imagined 
that  the  insurrectos  were  posted  in  ambush.  Two 
dead  mules  and  one  dead  insurrecto,  and  piles  of  hay 
showing  where  the  mules  had  been  fed,  were  the  only 
evidences  of  the  skirmish.  A frightened  teamster,  in 
order  to  escape  from  some  insurrectos  who  had  ap- 
peared in  the  road,  jumped  down  into  the  deep  and 
dark  creek.  He  was  recaptured  many  months  later. 

The  only  way  to  account  for  so  little  bloodshed  on 
that  occasion  is  to  ascribe  it  to  the  poor  fighting 
qualities  of  the  Filipino  under  his  own  leaders,  his 
poor  marksmanship,  also  to  the  short  service  and  poor 
shooting  of  our  men.  Having  inspected  the  scene  of 
the  halt  I went  out  and  investigated  the  places  which 
had  been  used  as  hiding  for  those  in  ambuscade.  I 
saw  one  or  two  spots  where  I counted  20  or  30  empty 
cartridge  shells,  at  each  place.  Nolan’s  men  had  a 


340 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


dead  insurrecto  out  in  the  bushes,  claimed  by  him  as 
having  been  one  killed  by  his  men  sent  to  search  the 
meanest  looking  places.  Going  back  into  the  road 
along  the  gulch  I noticed  again  what  had  really 
caused  the  smoke,  houses  burning.  I then  remembered 
remarking  as  I rode  from  Lipa  down  into  the  gulch, 
“Why  did  they  spare  that  house?”  at  the  same  time 
pointing  out  the  best  looking  house  in  sight,  most  of 
the  houses  along  the  road  for  some  distance  being  in 
flames.  On  my  return  to  the  gulch  that  house,  also, 
was  burning.  When  I made  the  remark  I imagined 
that  my  adjutant  was  the  only  man  who  had  heard 
me,  but  I must  have  been  mistaken. 

Twenty  or  thirty  houses  nearest  the  ambuscade, 
and  some  of  them  in  a hundred  yards  of  it,  were 
burnt.  The  men  living  in  those  houses  were  evidently 
implicated  in  the  attempt  on  my  wagon  train,  and 
the  burning  of  their  houses  was  most  just  retribution 
and  retaliation,  and  it  had  a fine  effect.  From  that 
day  we  called  the  scene  of  that  little  fight  the  “dead 
man’s  gulch,”  and  no  other  detachment  was  so  heed- 
less as  to  risk  destruction  by  halting  there.  Any  other 
men  of  the  38th  Vols.  so  offending,  would  have  been 
tried  by  court  martial.  The  offenders  in  the  incident 
described  were  not  under  my  command,  otherwise  the 
matter  would  not  have  ended  with  the  skirmish. 

Rosario  was  somewhat  nearer  the  mountains  than 
Lipa  was,  and  the  road  beyond  Rosario  and  towards 
Tabayas  Province  had  a bad  reputation,  because  of 
unfriendly  natives.  Therefore  I persuaded  Major 
Goodier,  at  Rosario,  to  join  me  in  a scout  through  the 
mountains  nearest  his  station.  With  three  of  my  com- 
panies I marched  in  the  afternoon  to  Rosario,  joined 
Goodier  and  two  of  his  companies,  then  we  went  on 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


341 


several  miles  further  and  stopped  for  the  night,  right 
in  the  road.  Next  morning  early  we  started  for  the 
mountains,  and  lost  much  time  crossing  some  rough 
creeks  and  ravines  which  we  did  not  know  about. 

In  crossing  one  of  those  streams  my  horse  fell  into 
a deep  ravine,  or  ditch,  and  I had  to  pull  him  out  by 
the  bridle  reins,  assisted  greatly  by  the  animal’s 
strength  and  fine  intelligence.  My  men  were  close  by 
looking  on,  and  they  were  so  pleased  by  the  horse’s 
exhibition  of  real  intelligence  that  they  raised  a big 
shout,  and  from  that  hour  my  big,  clumsy  black  steed 
was  a great  favorite  with  the  men  of  the  2nd  Battalion. 

Captain  David  Allen  was  with  us  on  that  hike,  not 
having  yet  gone  to  Bauan,  and  he  proved  his  marching 
ability  that  day,  in  those  mountains.  We  saw  a few 
insurrectos  a long  way  off,  fired  a few  shots  at  them 
and  hurt  no  one,  apparently.  Midday  found  us  on 
the  top  of  the  ridge  nearest  Rosario  and  Lipa,  and 
there  we  ate  so  much  green  corn  from  a small  field 
close  by  that  I,  for  one,  was  given  a severe  stomach 
ache  by  indulgence  in  over-eating. 

Captain  Allen  was  a wonderful  man.  He  was  left 
over  from  the  Civil  War,  in  which  he  did  good  service, 
and  in  the  Philippines  he  did  better  than  good  service. 
His  natural  disposition  was  very  kind  and  very  so- 
ciable, but  when  he  started  on  a hike  after  Filipinos 
every  hair  on  his  face  stood  a bristle,  and  it  was  “all 
off”  as  regarded  any  individual  friendship  which  he 
may  have  had  among  the  natives.  Indeed,  it  seemed 
to  me  that  he  used  his  social  relations  with  the  natives 
as  a means  of  getting  valuable  information.  Despite 
his  years  and  weight  he  always  walked  every  step 
with  his  men,  and  he  was  most  aggressive  and  ener- 
getic in  looking  for  opportunities  for  a march.  My 


342 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


description  of  Captain  David  Allen,  38th  Vols.  and 
of  Captain  Allen  Walker,  Philippine  Scouts  has 
always  been  the  quotation  from  Byron,  “As  mild 
mannered  a man  as  ever  cut  a throat  or  scuttled  a 
ship,”  though  neither  one  of  them  was  ever  cruel. 

Many  times  those  two  men  of  kind  and  mild  dis- 
positions performed  most  excellent  and  valuable  serv- 
ice in  the  Philippines,  and  I know  of  no  others  who 
did  as  much  execution  and  good  work  generally,  in 
the  same  length  of  time  and  with  so  little  means. 

Soon  after  the  ambuscade  at  “Dead  man’s  gulch” 
the  garrison  at  Rosario  was  discontinued.  Major 
Goodier  and  three  companies  of  the  3rd  Battalion 
took  station  at  San  Jose,  and  Captain  Allen,  with  his 
lone  company,  went  on  to  Bauan. 

Shortly  after  that  change  of  station  we  started  out 
from  Lipa  very  early  one  morning  for  Cuenca,  having 
heard  that  two  insurrecto  colonels  might  be  caught 
there.  We  expected  to  arrive  at  Cuenca  before  sun- 
rise and  bag  our  game,  but  the  distance  was  longer, 
and  the  marching  harder  than  we  expected.  Besides, 
we  had  a couple  of  small  brushes  with  insurrectos  on 
the  road,  so  that,  when  we  arrived  at  Cuenca  we  found 
that  Captain  Allen  and  his  company  of  the  3rd  Battal- 
ion, stationed  at  Bauan,  had  beaten  us  to  Cuenca 
and  had  captured  the  very  men  we  were  after. 

During  the  spring  of  1900  I was  ordered  to  Manila, 
to  be  examined  for  promotion  to  major  of  regulars. 
The  examination  lasted  only  half  an  hour,  in  all.  and 
then  I returned  promptly  to  Lipa,  and  in  about  a 
week  after  returning  I received  an  order  detailing  me 
on  a Board  of  Officers  to  examine  into  the  qualifica- 
tions and  efficiency  of  some  volunteer  officers.  Of 
course  I returned  to  Manila  as  soon  as  I could.  I 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


343 


found  that  I was  the  senior  member  of  the  Board, 
the  others  being  Lieut.  Cols.  Ducat  and  Jerome.  The 
former  was  my  comrade  from  the  24th  infantry,  and 
the  latter  was  an  old-time  officer  of  the  New  York 
militia. 

We  examined  four  officers,  and  as  a result  of  our 
findings  and  recommendations  one  of  them  was 
honorably  discharged,  and  the  Army  was  thus  freed 
from  the  encumbrance  of  one  inefficient  officer.  That 
duty  kept  me  in  Manila  several  weeks,  and  I was 
convinced  that  I could  have  remained  there  several 
weeks  more,  had  I desired  to  do  so.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  field  officers  were  much  needed  there  for  duty  on 
General  Courts  Martial  and  on  all  sorts  of  Boards, 
but  that  did  not  suit  me,  and  I left  as  soon  as  I 
could  get  permission  to  go. 

One  day,  while  I was  in  the  office  of  the  Adjutant 
General  at  Manila,  in  came  the  old  officer  whose 
regiment  I had  been  inspecting  at  Calamba.  During 
the  course  of  the  conversation,  and  in  explanation  as 
to  the  cause  of  his  long  absence  from  Manila,  he  said, 
“I  have  been  besieged  at  Calamba  for  months.” 
Apparently  he  was  very  proud  of  having  been  thus 
besieged.  The  Adjutant  General  made  no  reply  to 
that  remark,  and  I said  nothing.  The  old  man  had 
missed  too  many  ships  homeward  bound,  but  he  was 
soon  afterwards  sent  back  to  God’s  Country  and 
placed  on  the  retired  list. 

In  June,  1900,  I was  ordered  by  the  brigade  com- 
mander, Col.  Birkhimer,  then  stationed  at  Calamba, 
to  report  there  for  instructions.  With  my  little 
detachment  of  five  or  six  mounted  men  on  native 
ponies  I went  there  immediately,  and,  without  having 
given  the  matter  sufficient  consideration,  I sent  back 


344 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


to  Lipa  all  my  men  except  my  mounted  orderly.  This 
young  soldier  had  attracted  my  attention  by  feeding 
my  good  black  horse  the  night  of  our  return  to  Lipa 
from  Batangas,  the  middle  of  January,  and  because 
of  his  love  for  animals  I had  kept  Private  Bladen  with 
me  ever  since.  He  was  a slow  speaking  boy  from 
South  Carolina,  and  he  had  taken  pity  on  my  good 
black  horse,  and  had  fed  him  a couple  of  times  before 
I could  discover  who  had  done  it.  I soon  bought  an 
extra  horse,  one  for  him  to  ride,  and  he  was  my  mount- 
ed orderly  until  he  was  sent  home  for  muster  out. 

After  my  men  had  gone  back  to  Lipa  I learned  that 
I was  to  go  to  San  Pablo  and  investigate  something 
connected  with  some  cocoanut  oil.  I was  then  sorry 
that  my  men  were  gone  but  I hated  to  request  an 
escort,  because  the  brigade  commander  did  not  men- 
tion one,  and  he  told  me  how  Bullard  was  accustomed 
to  ride  most  of  that  road  alone.  I told  the  brigade 
commander  that  I was  not  as  bold  as  Bullard,  and 
that  therefore  I would  take  my  mounted-  orderly 
along,  as  my  escort.  And  I did  so. 

In  going  to  San  Pablo,  via  Santo  Tomas  and  Tan- 
auan  there  was  a mean  town  to  pass  through,  Ala- 
minos,  at  the  point  of  the  mountains  where  the  road 
has  to  bend  around  and  then  go  straight  to  San  Pablo, 
and  I rather  expected  trouble  there.  In  passing 
through  the  place  we  noticed  heads  at  every  window, 
and  much  church  bell  ringing,  and  I expected  then  to 
have  to  run  for  our  lives,  or  perhaps  be  ambuscaded 
a little  further  on.  Nothing  of  the  kind  occurred,  and 
I went  on  and  executed  my  mission  at  San  Pablo,  but, 
in  coming  back  through  that  same  Alaminos  I was  on 
the  lookout  for  bell  ringing,  and  I fully  intended  to 
kill  the  bell  ringer  for  thus  informing  the  people  of 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


345 


our  coming.  I was  saved  the  trouble,  for  no  bell  was 
rung.  So  my  orderly  and  I made  that  ride  of  about 
30  miles  from  Calamba  to  San  Pablo,  and  from  the 
latter  place  back  to  Calamba,  and  then  continued  on 
our  way  to  Lipa,  all  without  interruption. 

A few  days  later  Major  J.  H.  Parker,  39th  Vols. 
came  with  his  wife  one  Sunday  from  Tanauan,  to 
see  our  Lipa  market.  Sunday  was  our  big  market  day. 
He  brought  only  two  or  three  mounted  men,  the  entire 
party  being  mounted,  and  the  women  of  Lipa  had 
their  first  sight  of  an  American  lady.  She  attracted 
much  attention  that  Sunday. 

In  less  than  two  weeks  afterwards  a stronger  detach- 
ment of  mounted  men  was  ambushed  between  Tana- 
uan and  Lipa,  and  they  had  to  run  for  their  lives,  and, 
a few  days  still  later,  my  escort  of  about  fifteen  dis- 
mounted men,  guarding  our  fresh  meat  wagon  en 
route  from  Calamba  to  Lipa,  was  attacked,  one 
soldier,  one  civilian  and  one  mule  killed,  and  the 
balance  had  a hard  time  escaping. 

It  was  about  5 p.m.  one  Saturday,  and  the  first  call 
for  my  weekly  inspection  had  just  been  sounded, 
when  our  meat  wagon  came  in  at  full  speed,  and  we 
were  told  that  an  attack  on  the  escort  had  occurred 
about  three  miles  from  Tanauan,  near  the  same  old 
spot  where  we  had  our  little  scrap  that  January  13th. 
Instantly  three  companies  were  started  up  the  road, 
and  having  no  time  to  get  my  horse  I had  to  walk 
with  my  men.  I noticed  for  the  first  time  that  I was 
no  longer  a boy.  It  was  a very  fast  walk,  with  only  a 
“point”  out  in  front  and  my  young  soldiers  crowding 
me  hard. 

After  marching  four  or  five  miles  we  came  upon 
signs  of  the  fight  and  pursuit. 


346 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


We  found  our  dead  soldier,  also  the  dead  civilian, 
a former  volunteer  soldier  who  had  stayed  in  the 
islands  and  had  become  a photographer.  He  was  a 
recent  visitor  at  Lipa,  had  been  with  us  on  our  march 
to  Cuenca  and  had  taken  pictures  on  that  trip.  He 
was  then  on  his  road  to  our  post,  with  lots  of  pictures 
of  the  trip  to  Cuenca. 

We  took  the  bodies  back  to  Lipa,  and  buried  them 
the  following  day.  When  we  arrived  at  the  scene  of 
the  ambuscade  the  insurrectos  had  shot  their  bolt, 
had  done  the  usual  amount  of  damage,  and  we  could 
see  nothing  of  them  except  innocent  looking  natives. 
It  is  more  than  probable  that  some  of  the  natives 
who  so  humbly  bent  their  bodies  towards  us,  and  with 
additional  humility  rubbed  their  faces  with  palm  of 
right  hand,  from  chin  to  top  of  forehead  and  on  to 
back  of  head,  as  they  had  been  accustomed  to  do  in 
greeting  Spaniards,  had  been  most  active  in  the  fight. 
Such  was  their  way  of  doing,  and  it  made  our  duties 
doubly  trying.  The  wearing  of  white  clothing,  and 
the  use  of  the  word  “amigo,”  became  closely  connected, 
in  our  minds,  with  the  Filipino  manner  of  fighting. 

As  stated  before,  the  photographer  had  previously 
been  at  Lipa  with  us,  had  gone  to  Cuenca  with  us 
and  was  then  returning  from  Manila  with  some  pic- 
tures which  he  had  taken  on  that  hike  and  had  devel- 
oped in  Manila.  His  caromata  had  just  passed  our 
meat  wagon  when  he  heard  the  firing  begin.  He 
promptly  halted  his  vehicle  and  got  out  with  his 
camera  to  take  some  pictures  of  a real  fight.  But, 
seeing  a soldier  go  down,  not  far  from  him,  he  took 
the  dead  man’s  rifle  and  began  using  it,  himself.  He 
was  soon  shot  and  killed.  I reported  the  circumstances 
to  his  people:  he  had  a sister  in  Manila. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


347 


For  many  months  no  more  riding  all  alone,  or  in 
very  small  parties,  was  done  on  that  road,  but  in  a 
few  weeks  I received  an  order  to  go  to  Tayabas,  and 
investigate  a field  officer  stationed  there,  on  some 
charges  preferred  by  a young  subaltern.  Tayabas 
was  more  than  45  miles  distant,  and  the  road  was 
through  all  bad  country  for  Americans  in  small 
parties.  I mounted  as  many  men  as  I had  serviceable 
ponies,  to  act  as  my  escort,  nine  men  in  all,  and  we 
rode  the  first  day  to  a small  town  around  the  south 
end  of  the  mountains  near  San  Pablo,  and  we  stopped 
with  the  small  garrison  of  our  men  occupying  the 
convent.  The  next  day  we  moved  on.  My  little 
detachment  was  commanded  by  a fine  boy  sergeant 
named  Robert  DeWare,  a cousin  of  U.  S.  Senator 
C.  A.  Culberson,  of  Texas.  I could  hear  the  boy 
speaking  with  pride  of  his  native  state,  “down  in 
Texas,”  also  of  the  “Colonel  and  me,”  and  then  I 
looked  well  to  see  who  it  was.  A fine  soldier,  sure. 

After  thorough  investigation  of  everything  con- 
nected with  the  case  I came  to  the  conclusion  that 
there  was  too  little,  if  anything,  in  the  charges,  to 
justify  further  action  and  I so  reported  on  my  return. 
The  case  was  dropped. 

In  that  part  of  Tayabas  province  the  road  passed 
through  great  groves  of  cocoanut  trees,  more  than  I 
saw  anywhere  else  in  the  islands.  Evidently  this  was 
the  chief  industry  in  that  province.  “Copra,”  the 
partly  dried  meat  of  the  cocoanut,  is  collected  in  sacks 
and  shipped,  mostly  to  France  where  the  oil  is  made 
the  basis  of  many  perfumes,  soaps  and  oils.  In  the 
Philippines  cocoanut  oil  is  used  on  machinery  of  all 
kinds,  and  our  men  found  it  indispensable  for  keeping 
their  rifles  in  good  condition. 


348 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Pretty  soon  the  garrison  at  Lipa  was  called  on  by 
the  regimental  commander,  at  Batangas,  to  partici- 
pate in  a small  combined  movement  on  Loboc,  a 
small  town  on  salt  water  and  about  18  miles  from 
Batangas.  We  arrived  at  Loboc  about  mid-day  on 
the  second  day,  and  found  Col.  Anderson  and  his 
troops  from  Batangas  already  there. 

Some  of  his  men  had,  en  route,  exchanged  a few 
shots  at  long  range,  with  the  insurrectos,  but  no  one 
had  been  hurt.  The  expedition  undoubtedly  did  much 
good  by  opening  up  to  our  knowledge  new  country 
and  new  people.  The  country  through  which  we 
passed  was  considered  bad  country,  and  the  inhabi- 
tants hostile. 

San  Juan  de  Boc  Boc,  still  further  from  Batangas, 
but  nearer  to  Lipa,  was  our  next  point  to  visit.  This 
place  was  on  salt  water,  too,  and  at  the  mouth  of  a 
small  river.  Orders  from  our  brigade  commander  re- 
quired a simultaneous  movement  on  the  place  from 
Lipa,  Tanauan  and  Tayabas.  We  arrived  pretty  well 
together,  but  we  found  nothing  of  importance.  What 
few  insurrecto  soldiers  that  had  been  there  must  have 
disappeared  early  and  promptly.  After  marching  five 
or  six  miles  up  into  the  mountains  and  spending  the 
night  there  we  returned  home,  our  several  ways. 
While  we  could  show  no  list  of  casualties  on  either 
side,  these  movements  were,  nevertheless,  of  great 
importance,  as  showing  that  the  American  soldier 
could  and  did  go  anywhere  on  small  provocation,  and 
that  no  place  was  safe  from  our  intrusion.  This  had 
not  been  the  case  with  the  Spaniards. 

Capt.  John  Moore’s  company  was  sent,  under  the 
command  of  Major  Holbrook,  from  Lipa  to  San  Juan 
de  Boc  Boc,  where  they  remained  a short  while  and 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


349 


then  moved  on  to  Candelaria,  in  Tayabas  Province. 
Capt.  O.  J.  Brown’s  troop  of  the  1st  Cavalry  took  the 
place  of  Moore’s  company  at  Lipa,  and  another  troop 
of  that  regiment  was  sent  to  San  Juan  de  Boc  Boc, 
where  they  remained  till  our  departure  from  Lipa. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  38th  and  39th  Volunteers 
stationed  along  the  road,  and  next  door  to  each  other, 
when  out  after  insurrectos,  to  enter  their  neighbor’s 
town  and  garrison  and  depend  on  them  for  food  and 
forage,  and  this  scheme  worked  well  and  smoothly. 
When  we  had  time  to  telegraph  of  our  coming,  we  did 
so,  saying  something  like  this,  “Detachment  38th 
Volunteers,  two  officers,  45  men  and  eight  mules,  left 
for  Tanauan  8 p.m.”  On  arrival  at  Tanauan  the 
detachment  commander  would  report  to  the  com- 
manding officer,  and  would  learn  that  arrangements 
had  already  been  made  to  house  and  feed  his  detach- 
ment during  their  stay  at  Tanauan.  Sometimes  it 
was  not  practicable  to  telegraph  news  ahead  of  arrival 
of  troops.  In  that  case  the  detachment  commander 
himself  made  announcement  of  the  strength  of  his  de- 
tachment when  he  reported  his  arrival,  and  bountiful 
hospitality  was  always  furnished  the  new  arrivals. 
Settlement  with  the  government  was  always  made  on 
the  ration  returns  submitted  by  the  different  organiza- 
tion commanders,  by  entering  thereon  the  proper 
additions  and  subtractions  of  rations.  This  practice 
saved  us  the  bother  and  cost  of  transportation  of 
rations  and  forage,  to  a great  extent,  and  in  this 
manner  we  were  certainly  enabled  to  travel  lighter 
and  faster,  and  to  get  ready  quicker;  all  of  which 
tended  to  increase  the  probability  of  success  when 
chasing  the  elusive  Filipino. 

The  carabao,  or  water  buffalo,  is  the  chief  beast  of 


350 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


burden  in  the  Philippines,  both  for  travel  and  for  farm 
work.  His  chief  delight  is  the  lightest  and  deepest 
mud,  in  which  he  will  lie  for  hours  at  a time,  entirely 
covered  over,  excepting  only  his  eyes,  ears  and  nose. 
No  mud  is  so  boggy  as  not  to  be  a source  of  great 
pleasure  to  the  carabao.  His  exceedingly  broad, 
cloven  hoofs  prevent  his  sinking  too  deep  in  the  mud, 
notwithstanding  his  very  large  and  heavy  bones. 
While  working  this  animal  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  give  it  rest  and  water  periodically  and  often,  other- 
wise the  heat  causes  the  poor  thing  to  go  crazy  for  the 
instant,  and  savage  and  liable  to  run  amuck,  all  of 
which  is  no  rare  occurrence.  It  seemed  to  us  Americans 
that  the  combination  of  heat,  thirst  and  work  was  not 
really  essential,  to  drive  the  carabao  mad,  if  only  an 
American  were  present. 

In  my  marching  and  riding  in  the  islands  during 
five  years’  service  there,  I saw  many  carabaos  tied, 
close  to  the  road,  or  trail,  and  I never  saw  a single  one 
tighten  the  rope  by  getting  farther  from  us:  on  the 
contrary  I saw  many  carabaos  tighten  the  rope  by 
trying  to  get  nearer  to  us.  On  more  than  one  occasion 
I heard  the  click  of  some  soldier’s  rifle,  as  the  man 
passed  near  the  tied  animal.  One  soldier  of  the  38th 
Vols.  lost  his  life  from  being  gored  by  a carabao,  and 
at  least  two  more  were  wounded  by  those  strange 
animals.  On  one  occasion  the  man  was  saved  by 
falling,  or  being  thrown  against  a fallen  tree,  and  then 
hugging  the  ground  and  the  tree  as  he  lay  alongside 
of  it,  while  the  beast  tried  to  get  his  horn  at  the  right 
angle  to  reach  the  man.  Of  course  the  soldier’s  com- 
rades were  not  long  in  putting  an  end  to  such  a 
condition  of  affairs. 

Any  Filipino,  and  many  Chinamen,  seemed  per- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


351 


fectly  safe  from  danger,  if  the  animal  were  not  too  hot 
and  hard  worked.  I frequently  saw  one  child  and 
sometimes  two  children  riding  their  work  carabao, 
without  bridle,  blanket  or  even  a rope.  Only  once  did 
I ever  see  an  American  ride  a carabao,  and  that 
soldier  had  just  arrived  from  God’s  Country  and 
didn’t  know  his  danger. 

We  were  up  against  queer  conditions  in  our  efforts 
to  put  down  that  insurrection.  Natives  of  prominence 
in  their  best  towns  would  wear  white,  and  be  our  best 
friends,  apparently. 

They  would  frequently  give  us  information  con- 
cerning some  matter  of  importance,  always  too  late, 
however.  They  kept  close  watch  on  our  every  move- 
ment, and  surely  gave  the  insurrectos  advance  infor- 
mation whenever  possible,  and  failing  that,  they  would 
send  fleet  messengers  to  race  with  us  to  the  place 
where  it  was  supposed  we  were  going.  The  wealthy 
and  cordial  native,  so  friendly  while  in  sight,  was 
often,  at  the  same  time,  an  officer  in  the  insurrecto 
ranks,  and  made  frequent  visits  to  his  outlying  prop- 
erty, no  doubt  making  those  visits  serve  a double 
purpose. 

We  could  usually  buy  what  we  needed,  if  the  article 
could  be  found.  At  Lipa  the  same  man,  Paulino 
Inciong,  furnished  us  with  freshly  cut  grass,  fuel  and 
beef.  This  Paulino  was  a most  interesting  fellow, 
smooth  speaking,  polite  and  at  the  same  time  a real 
hustler  for  business.  Of  course  when  we  would  arrange 
for  an  increased  amount  of  grass,  wood  or  beef, 
Paulino  would  surely  understand  that  we  expected 
other  troops  to  arrive.  But  he  did  not  like  for  any 
other  Filipino  to  interfere  with  his  business  arrange- 
ments. After  eating  Inciong’s  beef  for  a number  of 


352 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


months  it  somehow  happened  that  we  found  our- 
selves eating  beef  obtained  from  some  other  source. 
The  first  that  I knew  of  it  came  from  Paulino  himself, 
who  informed  me  that  the  insurgents  had  brought 
over  from  the  island  of  Mindoro  many  fat  cattle 
which  had  once  belonged  to  the  Catholic  Church  on 
that  island,  and  that  those  cattle  were  being  landed 
on  our  island,  Luzon,  and  were  being  driven  towards 
Manila,  for  sale  to  any  buyer,  the  proceeds  to  go  to 
the  insurrecto  treasury  for  purchase  of  arms  and 
ammunition  at  Hong  Kong. 

He  told  of  a good  sized  herd  having  been  in  our  im- 
mediate neighborhood  for  several  weeks,  selling  beeves 
and  gradually  moving  towards  Manila.  I promptly 
rode  with  Capt.  Brown  and  some  men  of  his  troop, 
then  a part  of  my  command,  to  find  the  cattle.  We 
found  them,  and  brought  in  to  Lipa  some  150  to  200 
animals,  but  Paulino  told  me  that  the  herd  had  been 
divided  the  day  before,  and  that  part  of  it  had  gone 
on  towards  Santo  Tomas,  but  not  travelling  the  main 
road.  I telegraphed  immediately  to  Col.  Bullard  at 
Santo  Tomas,  and  he,  too,  soon  had  lots  of  fresh  beef 
without  having  to  pay  for  it.  I divided  my  beeves 
with  the  38th  Vols.  at  San  Jose,  Batangas  and  Bauan, 
and  when  we  left  Lipa  we  gave  some  to  our  friends  of 
the  1st  Cavalry  at  San  Juan  de  Boc  Boc. 

At  Lipa  there  was  a fine  native  musician,  in  my 
opinion  the  best  pianist  that  I ever  listened  to,  and 
the  best  organist.  He  was  young,  and  looked  to  be 
younger  still,  being  nearly  30  and  looking  to  be  only 
about  20,  and  he  could  get  out  of  a piano  and  a church 
organ  more  real,  sweet  melody  and  harmony  than  I 
ever  heard  before,  or  since.  He  could  read  and  play 
from  written  music  with  the  greatest  ease  and  rapidity 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


353 


and  apparent  perfection,  and  after  listening  once  to 
any  piece  played  by  the  band,  he  would  give  us  that 
same  piece  on  the  piano,  beautifully  executed.  He 
was  hired  to  play  for  our  “exchange”  from  7 to  9 
every  night,  and  after  9 he  was  frequently  taken  to 
some  officer’s  quarters  where  he  would  play  longer, 
being  perfectly  at  home  with  all  fine  music  a little  old. 

He  knew,  as  his  alphabet,  the  choice  parts  of 
“II  Trovatore,”  “Carmen,”  “Faust,”  etc.  We  officers 
were  living  in  the  best  houses  of  Lipa,  and  there  were 
many  pianos  there.  The  fine  musician  was  organist 
for  the  cathedral  in  Lipa,  and  this  building  was  con- 
nected with  the  convent,  where  some  of  us  lived,  by 
several  doors.  We  always  had  a strong  detachment 
stationed  in  the  convent,  sometimes  an  entire  com- 
pany, and  at  the  close  of  our  stay  in  Lipa  I lived  in 
the  convent  with  the  men  on  guard  and  the  special 
duty  men,  also  my  regimental  staff  officers. 

During  church  service  on  Sunday  mornings  we 
would  have  the  upstairs  big  door  open,  connecting 
second  floor  of  convent  with  location  of  organ,  and 
thus,  inside  our  own  quarters,  we  often  listened  to 
that  young  Filipino  play  choice  selections  of  old 
operas  mixed  in  with  proper  church  music.  Of  course 
that  must  have  been  during  parts  of  the  service  when 
he  was  not  required  to  give  only  church  music.  Per- 
haps it  was  unauthorized,  that  beautiful  profane 
music  on  the  church  organ  and  during  church  service, 
but  it  was  certainly  fine  music,  and  played  by  an 
expert  who  knew  when  and  where  to  bring  in  all  pos- 
sible expression.  That  young  Filipino  could  and  did 
get  more  and  sweeter  expression  out  of  piano  and 
church  organ  than  any  other  person  I ever  listened  to. 
My  officers  were  just  as  fond  of  his  music  as  I was. 


354 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


The  town  of  Lipa  had  more  good  blood  than  any 
other  town  in  the  islands,  according  to  my  observa- 
tion, and  what  others  told  me.  The  following  is  an 
instance  showing  that  the  people  were  not  savages. 
There  were,  out  in  the  woods  and  mountains,  with 
their  General  Malvar,  numerous  officers  from  lieu- 
tenant to  colonel,  all  from  Lipa,  and  some  of  them 
were  representatives  of  the  very  best  families  there, 
the  Solis,  Catigbac,  Luz  and  other  families. 

For  quite  a while  our  fresh  beef  was  sent  out  from 
Manila,  via  Calamba,  Santo  Tomas  and  Tanauan,  and 
it  was  transported  in  caromatas,  two  or  three  times 
a week.  The  caromata  is  a very  light,  two  wheel 
buggy,  pulled  by  one  animal.  On  one  occasion  our 
civilian  exchange  steward  was  returning  from  Calamba 
and  Manila,  and  was  travelling  from  Calamba  with 
the  beef  caromata.  Somewhere  near  the  spot  proven 
on  former  occasions  to  be  dangerous,  a fine  location  for 
an  ambuscade,  once  more  it  was  a bad  place,  and  we 
lost  our  beef,  and  temporarily  our  exchange  steward. 
Next  morning  he  appeared  while  we  were  at  break- 
fast, looking  very  tired,  and  travel  soiled,  but  other- 
wise unhurt.  He  had  been  taken,  on  foot,  eight  or 
ten  miles,  to  some  place  in  the  mountains,  where  he 
saw  a number  of  insurrectos,  including  some  officers 
from  Lipa. 

One  of  the  officers,  a youngster  named  Tolentino, 
seemed  to  be  quite  a musician,  and  played  away  on 
his  banjo,  or  guitar.  Finally,  they  invited  their  pris- 
oner to  perform  and  sing.  He  could  not  play,  but  he 
sang,  by  special  request,  “After  the  Ball,”  many 
times  with  many  variations,  until  he  wished  never  to 
hear  that  song  again.  He  told  them  that  he  was  a 
civilian,  not  a soldier,  and  begged  to  be  released,  and 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


355 


he  referred  them  to  old  Simeon  Luz,  of  Lipa,  to  verify 
his  statements.  They  sent  a messenger  all  the  way 
in  to  Lipa  to  ascertain  from  old  Luz  if  the  American 
had  told  them  the  truth,  and  learning  that  what  the 
exchange  steward  had  said  was  true,  they  sent  him, 
under  guard,  so  as  to  arrive  about  daylight  in  sight 
of  Lipa,  and  only  a mile  or  so  distant.  They  then 
released  our  steward,  under  solemn  promise  not  to 
betray  their  place  of  hiding,  or  rendezvous. 

A few  days  later  one  of  Simeon  Luz’s  servants  came 
to  my  quarters,  or  to  my  office,  and  gave  me  a note, 
written  and  signed  by  two  lieutenant  colonels  from 
Lipa,  Gregorio  Catigbac  and  Gregorio  Callao,  advising 
me  not  to  allow  my  friends  to  travel  the  roads  unpro- 
tected when  footpads  were  so  numerous.  I did  not 
reply  to  the  note,  and  did  not  keep  the  messenger,  but 
I made  a mental  note  of  it  all,  and  promised  myself 
to  find  and  visit  that  rendezvous  and  call  in  person 
on  those  gentlemen.  But  I could  get  no  information 
from  the  exchange  steward,  who  seemed  to  be  very 
grateful  to  those  people.  It  was  not  long  before  we 
moved  away  from  Lipa,  so  that  I never  did  return 
the  civility  of  the  two  Lipa  lieutenant  colonels. 

In  locating  my  troops  as  the  garrison  of  Lipa  I 
posted  no  outpost  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  to  be 
always  exposed  to  sudden  rush  and  annihilation,  but, 
instead,  the  organizations  were  placed  at  three  differ- 
ent houses,  each  capable  of  strong  resistance.  One 
was  at  the  center  of  the  town,  one  at  the  church  and 
convent,  and  the  other  two  in  large  stone  houses  on 
the  main  street  and  road,  each  distant  four  or  five 
blocks  from  the  center  and  on  different  ends  of  the 
street.  Each  of  the  three  dwelling  houses  was  guarded 
by  a single  sentinel  and  by  a patrol  of  one  non- 


356 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


commissioned  officer  and  seven  privates  always  mov- 
ing along  the  road  connecting  the  two  outer  posts, 
and  passing  close  to  the  central  one,  with  orders  not 
to  go  out  into  other  parts  of  the  town  without  special 
authority.  The  guard  was  posted  at  the  church  and 
convent,  an  excellent  location. 

In  conversation  with  the  Presidente  of  Lipa,  Valerio 
Callao,  the  brother  of  one  of  the  lieutenant  colonels 
that  signed  the  polite  note  referred  to,  I told  him, 

“Now  you  know  that  I have  no  small  outposts  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  town,  for  General  Malvar  to  pick  up. 
My  garrison  is  divided  into  three  parts,  and  you  know 
where  they  are,  and  you  also  know  that  my  patrol  is 
always  on  the  street.  Malvar  can  come  any  night  that 
may  please  him,  and  I will  not  know  it.  He  can  take 
possession  of  nearly  all  Lipa  without  my  knowing  it 
and  I won’t  know  of  it  until  he  notifies  me  in  some 
way,  by  messenger,  or  by  opening  fire  on  us.  In  such 
case,  make  no  mistake  about  it.  We  will  go  after  him 
and  take  every  house  from  him,  but  in  doing  so,  that 
being  unusual  and  dangerous  warfare,  we  will  kill 
every  man  in  every  house  that  we  assault,  without 
exception  and  without  regard  to  white  clothes,  and 
we’ll  waste  no  time  in  guessing  at  age.” 


Not  a shot  was  fired  at  my  garrison  during  our  stay 
of  nearly  ten  months  at  Lipa.  Our  successors,  under 
the  old  colonel  previously  alluded  to,  as  having  been 
besieged  so  long,  did  not  have  so  quiet  a time. 

In  one  of  my  trips  to  Manila  I saw  Capt.  Martinez 
at  General  Otis’s  headquarters,  and  I helped  him 
obtain  better  accommodations  on  the  transport  which 
was  to  carry  him  back  to  Spain.  He  was  booked,  and 
knew  of  his  assignment  to  a berth  which  was  not 
comfortable  and  satisfactory,  and  he  had  gone  to  our 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


357 


general  to  get  a better  berth.  He  was  leaving  the 
building,  unsuccessful,  when  I arrived  on  the  scene 
just  in  time  to  vouch  for  him,  to  tell  of  his  fine  service 
for  us  and  for  his  comrades  at  Rosario.  Capt.  Martinez 
was  very  grateful,  and  I hope  that  he  arrived  safely, 
and  that  he  received  proper  recognition  from  his  own 
government,  for  he  was  a fine  fellow. 

During  that  same  trip  to  Manila  I saw  a young 
Spanish  soldier,  named  Justo  Lopez,  who  had  been 
wounded  in  the  fighting  which  preceded  the  surrender 
of  Lipa,  and  had  been  later  rescued  by  our  coming. 
Lopez  was  mentioned  in  orders  for  gallantry  in  action 
and  was  promoted  from  corporal  to  sergeant.  During 
his  entire  captivity  he  preserved  the  order,  and  he 
also  kept  concealed  a dagger,  with  point  as  piercing 
as  that  of  a needle.  The  dagger  he  gave  to  me,  and  I 
have  it  still. 

As  I was  returning  to  Lipa,  via  Batangas,  and  was 
travelling  with  the  escort  to  my  wagon  train,  we 
overtook  Justo  Lopez  and  a Filipina,  walking  along 
the  road  and  going  our  way.  He  explained  to  me  that 
the  woman  was  his  “mujer”  (woman),  and  that  they 
would  like  to  go  to  Lipa  with  us.  I gave  them  both 
a ride  on  our  wagons,  and,  after  talking  a good  deal 
with  Lopez  I employed  him  as  interpreter,  at  better 
wages  than  he  ever  dreamed  of  earning.  He  could  not 
speak  English,  nor  Tagalog,  but  his  woman  was  a 
native  and  could  talk  to  him  in  Spanish,  and  he  could 
then  explain  to  us  in  Spanish  what  she  had  said  to  him. 

I was  so  convinced  of  his  loyalty  and  devotion  that 
I trusted  him  fully,  and  I was  not  disappointed  in  him. 
His  service  was  most  satisfactory.  After  a while  Lopez 
saw  in  Lipa  a native  who  had  formerly  been  a soldier 
in  the  Spanish  army,  and  he  had  no  difficulty  in  per- 


358 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


suading  the  former  soldier  to  come  to  us.  This  native 
was  our  guide  on  several  occasions,  and  we  always 
found  the  place  and  sometimes  the  people  we  expected 
to  find.  Of  course  the  native  became  a marked  man, 
and  the  result  was  that,  one  day  our  new  friend  was 
assassinated  in  the  market  place  by  another  native, 
who  had  been  sent  into  Lipa  for  the  special  purpose 
of  killing  the  renegade.  We  finally  captured  the 
assassin,  in  the  following  manner. 

A native  of  very  good  family  had  on  several  pre- 
vious occasions  shown  a desire  to  please  us,  and  he 
now  arranged  to  inform  us  the  following  Sunday,  at 
the  cockpit,  the  instant  the  assassin  was  entering  the 
enclosure.  He  told  us  where  he  would  sit  and  requested 
that  we  would  watch  him  very  closely,  so  that  he 
would  be  seen  to  nod  his  head  the  instant  the  assassin 
was  entering  the  gate.  The  scheme  worked  all  right, 
and  we  had  the  right  man,  but  we  could  get  no  proof 
of  his  guilt,  and  could  only  hope  that  some  day  he 
would  try  to  escape  from  his  guard.  This,  however, 
the  prisoner  failed  to  do,  being  apparently  favorably 
impressed  by  our  prison  fare. 

I have  several  times  alluded  to  the  good  blood  and 
wealth  of  the  people  of  Lipa.  In  the  house  of  Bernardo 
Solis,  the  former  presidente,  there  were  three  pianos, 
one  on  each  floor  and  at  least  one  huge  mirror  sunken 
into  the  wall  of  one  room.  That  mirror  was  frequently 
hit  by  rifle  bullets  during  the  siege  of  the  Spaniards 
in  the  church  and  convent,  for  this  house  was  a very 
important  one  to  the  besiegers,  being  well  located  as 
a stronghold  for  those  fighting  the  garrison  located 
in  the  church.  One  of  the  pianos  was  located 
on  the  ground  floor,  so  as  to  attract  people  into  a 
small  shop  where  he  had  for  sale  some  few  articles 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


359 


still  obtainable.  He  allowed  one  of  his  daughters  to 
play  for  soldiers  there,  until  I warned  him  not  to  do  so. 

At  the  house  of  old  Torribio  Catigbac  there  were 
two  pianos.  One  of  his  daughters  played  while  the 
other  sang,  and  they  could  give  us  any  old  opera,  but 
no  new  one. 

The  members  of  the  good  families  of  Lipa  were 
intensely  patriotic,  and  at  the  same  time  very  kind 
and  courteous. 

General  Wade,  in  his  report  written  some  months 
after  our  departure  from  Lipa,  said  in  substance: 
“Here,  in  the  provinces  of  Cavite,  Laguna  and 
Batangas,  where  the  most  enlightenment,  wealth  and 
good  blood  are  to  be  found,  the  insurrection  will  die 
in  its  last  ditch.”  The  last  insurrecto  general  of  any 
consequence,  Malvar,  surrendered  at  Lipa,  thus  prov- 
ing the  soundness  of  General  Wade’s  prophecy,  and 
increasing  the  good  will  and  respect  which  I had 
always  had  for  the  people  of  Lipa. 

During  the  fall  of  1900  Col.  Anderson  was  sent 
with  two  companies  of  his  regiment  to  the  island  of 
Masbate,  where  the  natives  had  captured  an  entire 
company  of  U.  S.  Volunteers  of  another  regiment. 
While  my  colonel  was  thus  absent  I was  in  temporary 
command  of  the  38th  Vols. 

Commanders  of  isolated  posts  were,  in  those  days, 
given  a small  sum  of  money  to  disburse  for  informa- 
tion, rifles,  etc.  I was  lucky  enough  to  have  at  Lipa 
an  old  fellow  who  was  well  informed,  and  willing  to 
sell  his  information.  He  belonged  to  a family  which 
had  formerly  been  very  rich  and  influential. 

This  old  timer  would,  with  great  secrecy,  come  to 
my  quarters  at  night,  get  very  close  to  me,  and 
hoarsely  whisper  what  he  had  to  say.  It  was  very 


360 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


trying  to  be  that  close  to  his  disgusting  breath,  reek- 
ing with  garlic,  but  it  was  worth  it.  On  one  occasion 
he  told  me  of  a contemplated  attack  on  our  troops  at 
Taal,  then  garrisoned  by  a battalion  of  the  28th  Vols. 
(Col.  Birkhimer).  He  gave  me  almost  the  exact  hour 
of  the  night,  the  day  of  the  month  when  the  attack 
was  to  take  place.  I promptly  telegraphed  the  infor- 
mation to  the  Commanding  Officer  at  Taal,  and  it 
was  lucky  that  I did  so,  for  the  attack  was  made 
exactly  as  my  informant  had  predicted.  The  result 
was,  of  course,  a good  beating  for  the  insurrectos,  and 
as  they  retreated  away  from  Taal,  along  the  road  to 
Bauan,  they  met  my  friend  Allen  and  his  men  from 
Indiana,  and  another  good  thrashing  was  handed 
them.  I think  that  Allen  had  heard  the  firing,  and  like 
a good  soldier  had  started  towards  the  sound  of  the 
music. 

On  another  occasion  my  old  traitor  told  me  that 
in  a certain  house  in  Nasugbu  could  be  found  Lieut. 
Col.  Pablo  Borbon  and  Capt.  Jose  Mayo,  both  insur- 
rectos. This  information  I promptly  telegraphed  to 
the  Commanding  Officer  at  Nasugbu,  and  that  same 
night  Borbon  was  captured,  but  Mayo  could  not  be 
found.  My  mysterious  old  friend  told  me,  at  his  next 
visit,  how  Mayo  had  escaped,  and  the  old  rascal 
chuckled  with  satisfaction  at  his  countryman’s  shrewd- 
ness. Mayo  was  present  when  our  troops  raided  the 
house  and  caught  Borbon,  but  before  our  men  saw 
him  he  caught  up  in  his  arms  somebody’s  baby,  and 
by  hugging  the  infant  to  his  breast  and  looking  stupid 
he  passed  for  an  old  native  father,  half  idiot  and 
harmless.  The  Filipino  can  look  very  stupid  when  he 
wishes  to  do  so. 

During  that  fall  of  1900  the  presidential  election  in 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


361 


the  United  States  took  place.  William  McKinley 
was  candidate  for  re-election,  and  William  Jennings 
Bryan  was  the  Democratic  candidate.  The  conduct 
of  the  war  in  the  Philippines  was  closely  watched  by 
the  Democrats,  in  the  hope  of  getting  therefrom  cam- 
paign data,  useful  ammunition  for  use  in  the  approach- 
ing election.  This  resulted  in  the  hampering  of  troops 
by  restrictions  and  prohibitions  of  various  kinds, 
tending  to  prolong  the  war.  Mr.  Bryan’s  utterances, 
as  published  in  the  newspapers,  were  gladly  noted  and 
carefully  cherished  by  leading  Filipinos,  who  thus 
grew  to  look  upon  the  Democratic  Party,  especially 
Mr.  Bryan,  as  being  very  friendly  to  their  cause,  and 
as  being  inclined  to  favor  their  immediate  independ- 
ence. Mr.  Bryan  was  frequently  alluded  to  at  Lipa, 
in  my  hearing,  as  “Nuestro  Amigo,  El  Senor  Bryan.” 
(Our  friend,  Mr.  Bryan.) 

On  one  occasion,  after  reading  in  a newspaper  some 
speech  that  Mr.  Bryan  had  recently  made  in  the 
United  States,  in  which  he  had  said  something  about 
the  Philippines  and  conditions  there,  I remarked  to 
my  comrades,  “This  speech  will  cost  us  hundreds  of 
lives  and  millions  of  dollars,”  and  others  appeared  to 
be  of  the  same  opinion.  As  soon  as  the  election  was 
over  a change  seemed  to  pass  over  the  islands,  especi- 
ally as  regarded  our  conduct  of  military  operations. 
In  fact,  we  began  to  be  a little  bolder  in  taking  chances 
of  punishment  from  Manila,  a little  prior  to  the 
election.  I noticed  in  the  Manila  papers  various  news 
items  describing  our  operations  in  different  places, 
and  showing  that  some  things  were  happening  the  like 
of  which  had  not  occurred  for  many  months.  These 
happenings  were  perfectly  regular  under  our  laws  of 
war  as  laid  down  in  General  Orders  No.  100,  but  in 


362 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


our  grandfatherly  fashion  of  treating  the  Filipino  as 
our  small  grandson,  we  had  forgotten  that  the  famous 
order  named  really  described  our  approved  manner 
of  conducting  war. 

The  elections  over,  changes  came  fast.  It  was 
noticed  that  the  several  department  commanders  were 
called  to  Manila  for  consultation  with  the  division 
commander,  and  almost  immediately  military  opera- 
tions everywhere  took  on  new  life  and  energy.  Soon 
after,  there  appeared  a Division  General  Order  telling 
us,  in  effect,  that  the  Division  Commander  looked 
for  more  energetic  operations,  and  stricter  application 
of  the  provisions  of  General  Order  100.  That  order, 
more  than  any  reinforcement  of  ten  thousand  men, 
put  an  end  to  the  insurrection  in  the  Philippines. 
Throughout  the  islands  we  dropped  grandmotherly 
methods,  and  applied  the  recognized  laws  of  war,  thus 
informing  the  natives  what  we  could  properly  do 
under  those  laws.  According  to  my  recollection  the 
order  was  published  sometime  in  December,  1900,  and 
on  June  30,  1901,  the  war  was  officially  declared  to  be 
ended.  At  least  we  were  so  informed  by  our  President, 
and  our  volunteers  then  went  home,  and  were  mus- 
tered out  of  service.  War  and  politics  seldom  work 
well  together,  and  this  instance  was  no  unusual 
proof  of  it. 


CHAPTER  XV 


Under  the  plans  for  more  life  and  vim  in  putting 
down  the  insurrection  the  38th  Volunteers  were 
ordered  to  the  island  of  Panay.  This  removed  us 
from  the  province  of  Batangas,  where  we  had  been 
with  the  first  pioneers.  About  November  27,  1900,  we 
left  Lipa.  Before  we  left,  my  little  Spaniard  Justo 
Lopez  gave  me  that  real  dagger  which  he  had  man- 
aged to  keep  concealed  for  many  months,  during  the 
time  when  he  was  a prisoner  of  the  Philippine  army. 
I commended  Lopez  very  highly  to  my  successors. 

One  battalion  and  headquarters  of  the  21st  Infantry 
relieved  us  at  Lipa,  and  among  the  officers  I was  glad 
to  see  Capt.  Wilhelm,  whom  I had  known  at  Fort 
Stanton,  N.  M.,  years  before.  In  a few  weeks  he  was 
killed,  in  a skirmish  in  the  rough  country  between 
Lipa  and  Alaminos,  with  two  other  young  officers. 
Wilhelm  was  a very  valuable  officer. 

I had  for  some  time  intended  making  a thorough 
drive  through  that  same  locality,  and  expected  getting 
the  assistance  of  the  troops  at  Tanauan  and  San 
Pablo.  It  was  the  location  where  Major  Holbrook 
had  a scrap  with  the  natives  during  one  of  my  visits 
to  Manila,  and  I always  intended  to  go  there  myself. 

Having  gotten  together  at  Batangas,  the  regiment 
sailed  on  the  Army  Transport  Warren,  and  landed 
at  Ilo  Ho,  Panay,  for  service  under  Brigadier  General 

363 


364 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Robert  P.  Hughes.  I believe  that  I once  saw  that 
general  in  Manila,  but  I did  not  meet  him  then.  When 
we  landed  at  Ilo  Ilo  my  classmate,  Capt.  E.  F.  Glenn, 
was  Department  Judge  Advocate,  and  had  just  re- 
turned from  a trip  to  Igbaras  and  vicinity,  which  trip 
he  was  not  likely  to  forget  soon,  and  I remember  well 
what  he  described  as  having  happened. 

In  a day  or  two  our  plan  of  campaign  was  known 
to  some  of  us,  and  I was  to  command  the  3rd  Battalion 
of  the  38th  Vols.  in  the  general  movement  of  troops, 
and  I was  to  start  out  first.  Coming  into  a new 
department,  and  being  new  to  the  commanding  gen- 
eral, naturally  I went  to  call  on  him  in  his  office.  I 
found  him  a short,  very  slender,  very  straight  and 
easy  man  in  his  movements.  His  figure  looked  as 
perfect  as  that  of  a boy,  but  not  strong,  or  muscular. 
His  eyes  were  blue,  and  tired  looking  from  much  work. 
His  features  were  very  regular,  being  neither  Roman 
nor  Greek  in  type,  but  something  between  the  two. 
His  face  was  always  clean  shaven,  excepting  his  upper 
lip;  very  handsome  and  very  attractive  when  his  eyes 
would  brighten  up  in  friendly  talk. 

When  I entered  General  Hughes’s  office  he  got  up 
to  meet  me,  greeted  me  very  cordially,  and  imme- 
diately walked  over  to  a map  on  the  wall,  and  with 
a pencil  he  indicated  here  and  there  the  roads  and 
trails  that  I was  to  follow  in  my  operations,  and  in 
a very  few  words  he  gave  me  to  understand  what  he 
wanted  me  to  do  in  the  coming  campaign.  He  knew 
and  remembered  the  name  of  each  barrio  and  creek 
crossing  where  our  troops  had  ever  been  fired  on,  and 
I was  to  visit  all  of  them  that  were  in  reach  from  my 
line  of  march.  All  the  same,  the  General  was  exceed- 
ingly mild  mannered,  and  he  was  kindness  itself. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


365 


I liked  him  very  much  from  the  very  beginning,  and 
I felt  sure  that  I would  be  able  to  please  him. 

My  men  were  camped  in  Jaro,  one  of  the  three  most 
important  towns  in  Panay,  the  other  two  being  Ilo  Ilo 
and  Molo.  Those  three  places  have  their  centers  at 
the  points  of  an  equilateral  triangle,  such  points  being 
about  two  miles  and  a half  apart.  Ilo  Ilo  was  the  port, 
and  was  situated  on  a narrow,  salt  water  estuary,  not 
a real  river  as  it  appeared  to  be.  This  estuary  passed 
between  Ilo  Ilo  and  Jaro  under  a bridge,  and  through 
the  outer  edge  of  Molo  under  an  old  bridge  which  was 
no  longer  good  for  the  use  of  animals  and  vehicles. 

The  finest  jusi  cloth  and  the  best  pina  cloth  were 
woven  in  those  towns,  especially  in  Molo,  and  a great 
part  of  the  wealth  of  the  island  of  Panay  was  con- 
centrated in  those  three  towns. 

The  harbor  itself  resembled  the  old  time  harbor  of 
Manila,  the  steamer  piers  being  located  along  the 
estuary  at  Ilo  Ilo,  like  those  on  the  Passig  River. 

With  40  or  50  men  mounted  on  big  American  horses, 
about  40  pack  mules,  and  the  four  companies  of  the 
3rd  Batallion  under  Major  Goodier,  I started  out 
from  Jaro  on  December  5,  1900.  There  had  been 
recent  rains,  and  we  very  soon  found  soft  and  boggy 
roads.  At  various  places  a horse,  or  a pack  mule  would 
sink  in  the  bog  and  cause  a delay  in  the  march.  At 
one  time  we  had  about  20  animals  mired,  and  getting 
them  out  caused  considerable  work  and  much  delay. 
Loss  of  time  by  such  causes  made  a short  march,  and 
we  stopped  at  Leganes  the  first  night.  Our  march 
was  along  country  roads  and  trails  connecting  the 
more  important  points,  especially  those  points  which 
the  General  had  shown  me  on  the  map.  The  result 
Fas  that  not  a single  man  of  my  command  suffered 


366  A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


even  a flesh  wound  for  nearly  a week.  We  had  a 
number  of  small  skirmishes,  but  my  force  being  of 
such  superior  strength,  such  skirmishes  merely 
delayed  our  march  a little.  We  passed  through  Le- 
ganes,  Zaraga  and  Barotac,  and  we  made  our  first 
real  halt  at  Dingle,  which  town  we  found  in  ashes, 
much  to  our  disappointment,  because  I expected  to 
put  my  entire  command  (men)  in  the  convent  there. 
We  found  only  the  hollow  walls  of  the  church,  and 
used  that  space  as  quarters  for  all  my  men.  Before 
reaching  Dingle,  one  night  while  in  camp,  about 
9 o’clock,  we  were  fired  on  by  the  natives  not  more 
than  75  to  100  yards  away.  I was  sleeping  in  a very 
small  shack,  and  could  see  that  there  were  still  some 
small  fires  smouldering  here  and  there  in  my  camp, 
something  for  the  insurrectos  to  aim  at.  However, 
no  one  was  hit,  and  we  did  not  fire  a shot  in  reply. 
There  was  nothing  to  shoot  at. 

Those  shooting  at  us  were  evidently  as  much 
excited  as  we  were,  and  they  did  nothing  but  fire 
quickly  about  twenty  shots  and  then  sneak  away 
before  we  could  get  out  of  camp. 

From  Dingle  we  went  out  on  a number  of  short 
expeditions,  investigating  conditions  whenever  we 
heard  of  anything  interesting,  not  forgetting  the 
places  which  General  Hughes  had  shown  me  on  the 
map.  Sometimes  there  would  be  a small  skirmish, 
an  exchange  of  a few  shots,  but  little,  if  any,  damage 
to  either  side  from  such  firing,  on  account  of  the 
excellent  cover  afforded  the  natives.  Our  men  seldom 
saw  anything  to  shoot  at. 

Several  miles  out  from  Dingle  there  was  a small 
mountain  ridge,  a huge  pile  of  old  broken  lava,  partly 
covered  with  earth  and  a tropical  growth  of  bushes 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


367 


and  trees.  In  this  mountain  there  were  a number 
of  very  interesting  caves,  in  one  of  which  we  saw 
abundant  evidence  of  former  occupation  by  the  insur- 
rectos.  Many  inscriptions  were  on  the  walls,  one  of 
the  inscriptions  reading,  as  translated,  “It  is  sweet 
to  die  for  one’s  country,”  and  signed,  “Jalandoni,” 
a young  representative  of  one  of  the  best  families  on 
the  island  of  Panay.  But,  that  young  fellow,  in  spite 
of  his  burning  patriotism  and  his  commission  as 
major,  carefully  kept  out  of  our  way,  and,  as  soon  as 
he  could  do  so  after  the  insurrection  was  over,  he 
went  to  Japan,  where,  according  to  report,  he  re- 
mained hostile  and  tried  to  make  trouble  for  us. 

While  destroying  some  powder,  which  we  found  on 
top  of  the  mountain,  one  of  our  men  remained  too 
close  to  the  small  pile  which  he  set  fire  to,  and,  as  a 
consequence,  he  lost  eyelashes  and  eye  brows,  and 
narrowly  escaped  with  eyesight  undamaged.  I was, 
at  the  same  time,  too  close  to  that  powder,  but  by 
very  quick  movement  I suffered  no  injury. 

From  Dingle  we  participated  in  a combined  move- 
ment on  Mount  Singuit,  a very  high  peak  in  the 
Antique  range  of  mountains  running  parallel  to  the 
west  coast  of  Panay,  and  only  a short  distance 
from  that  coast.  This  peak  was  visible  from  a great 
distance,  and  at  that  time  it  was  supposed  to  be 
occupied  by  the  main  insurrecto  force,  under  General 
Delgado. 

Col.  Anderson  had  charge  of  the  entire  movement, 
having  under  his  personal  command  the  1st  Battalion 
of  the  38th,  also  Capt.  Walter  Gordon’s  mounted 
scouts  of  the  18th  Infantry  under  Lieut.  Arthur 
Conger. 

Major  Guy  V.  Henry,  Jr.,  with  his  battalion  of  the 


368 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


26th  Vols.,  was  just  ahead  of  me  on  the  road  which 
we  chose  in  going  towards  the  base  of  the  mountain, 
and  he  had  a different  point  from  which  to  make  the 
ascent.  The  combined  movement  worked  all  right, 
except  that  we  did  not  completely  surround  Delgado 
and  his  people,  who  escaped  after  making  a short 
fight  and  causing  us  to  do  a lot  of  hard  climbing.  The 
mountain  scenery  around  that  high  peak  was  beautiful 
and  grand.  After  returning  to  Dingle  we  went  up  to 
Passi,  where,  in  the  broad  valley  south  of  the  town, 
Capt.  “Tiny”  Warwick,  18th  Inf.  was  killed  in  a 
small  fight  the  year  before.  But  this  time  our  forces 
were  too  numerous  to  provoke  a fight,  and  we  just 
saw  the  country  and  returned  to  our  hollow  church  at 
Dingle.  The  Warwick  mentioned  was  the  same  fine 
fellow  that  gave  me  the  oysters  when  we  were  both 
in  the  cadet  hospital  at  West  Point  in  the  spring 
of  1873. 

Before  Xmas  I was  ordered  to  Ilo  Ho  for  duty  as 
president,  or  senior  member  of  two  simultaneous  mili- 
tary commissions,  convened  to  try  Filipinos  for  viola- 
tions of  the  laws  of  war.  The  Department  Judge 
Advocate,  Capt.  Glenn,  was  Judge  Advocate  of  one 
of  the  military  commissions,  and  Capt.  Fleischhauer, 
Quartermaster  38th  Vols.,  held  that  position  for  the 
other  court.  One  commission  held  its  meetings  in 
the  forenoon,  and  the  other,  in  the  afternoon.  I was 
the  only  officer  on  duty  with  both  commissions,  but 
we  had  the  same  interpreter  for  both,  one  Felipe 
Gomez,  apparently  pure  Spaniard,  and  a fine  linguist. 

The  very  first  cases  that  we  tried  were  those  of  the 
presidente  and  several  other  big  men  of  Igbaras. 

Four  years  in  Bilibid  Prison  at  Manila  was  the  least 
punishment  given  any  one  of  them.  Glenn  performed 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


369 


most  valuable  service  in  the  execution  of  his  duties  as 
Department  Judge  Advocate.  He  unearthed  the 
guilt  of,  and  brought  to  just  punishment  through 
trial  by  military  commission,  a number  of  insurrecto 
officials,  and  some  of  them  of  high  rank.  The  effect 
of  this  work,  completed  as  it  was  by  military  com- 
missions, was  to  assist  very  materially  in  shortening 
the  period  of  insurrection  in  Panay,  and  thus  cause 
that  rich  island  to  be  the  first  to  be  pacified. 

A young  Filipino  of  Jaro  was  accused  by  the 
insurrectos  of  being  an  “ Americanisto  ” (friend  to  the 
Americans),  and  they  sent  in  a detail  of  men  to  punish 
him  with  death.  As  the  young  fellow  was  returning 
from  riding  his  bicycle  about  8 p.m.  his  muchacho 
(boy  servant)  opened  the  door  and  relieved  him  of  the 
wheel.  The  muchacho  deposited  the  wheel  a few 
feet  away,  and  returned  quickly  to  the  door,  where 
he  assisted  two  other  men  who  were  hacking  away 
at  the  young  Filipino  with  their  bolos.  The  job  was 
soon  finished,  the  final  blow  appearing  to  have  been 
given  by  his  own  muchacho.  One  of  the  assassins 
had  formerly  been  the  young  man’s  muchacho,  and 
another  was  an  employe  in  a Chinese  store  on  the 
ground  floor  of  the  same  building.  A fourth  man 
watched  another  door  leading  outside,  and  the  fifth 
superintended  the  job,  as  leader.  The  man  who 
watched  the  door  was  given  only  20  years  in  Bilibid 
Prison,  while  the  three  active  assassins  and  the 
leader  were  sentenced  to  be  hanged.  One  of  them 
escaped  the  gallows  by  previously  dying  of  beriberi. 

Another  case  settled  by  our  Commission  was  that 
of  the  murder  of  an  American  volunteer.  That  young 
soldier  disappeared,  and  there  being  no  evidence  of  foul 
play  he  was  first  carried  on  the  rolls  as  being  absent 


370 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


without  leave,  and  finally  he  was  dropped  as  a deserter. 
For  months  his  comrades  believed  that  the  poor  fellow 
had  deserted,  and  in  all  probability  his  family  and  friends 
at  home  had  heard,  and  had  believed  the  same  story. 

Glenn  discovered  the  facts,  which  afterwards  were 
fully  shown,  in  the  trial  before  our  military  commis- 
sion, of  all  but  one  of  the  guilty  parties,  one  after 
another.  The  American  was  promised  a meeting  with 
a native  woman,  a mile  or  so  from  town,  he  was  per- 
suaded to  bring  along  his  rifle,  and  his  belt  full  of 
cartridges,  was  made  drunk  and  then  was  carried  to 
the  presidente,  who  was  to  give  orders  for  disposition 
of  him.  The  presidente  directed  the  native  sergeant 
of  police  and  his  two  native  policemen  to  take  the 
soldier  out  and  kill  him.  The  drunken  soldier  under- 
stood nothing  of  the  conversation,  which  was  carried 
on  in  his  presence  and  hearing,  in  the  Visaya  dialect. 
The  party  then  proceeded  out  of  town,  the  natives 
playfully  tying  the  drunken  American’s  hands  behind 
him,  and  then  hacking  and  cutting  him  with  their 
bolos,  making  at  first  only  slight  wounds  and  pre- 
tending to  be  in  play. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  spot  where  they  wanted 
to  leave,  or  bury  the  corpse,  they  opened  the  poor 
fellow’s  abdomen,  and  hacked  at  his  neck,  killing  our 
fellow  countryman  with  many  wounds.  Having  buried 
the  corpse  the  assassins  took  the  man’s  rifle,  belt  and 
blanket,  reported  to  a former  presidente  for  orders, 
and  in  compliance  with  them  they  delivered  to  the 
insurrecto  soldiers  outside  the  rifle  and  belt,  keeping 
the  blanket. 

The  native  sergeant  of  police  was  never  caught  by 
us,  but  the  two  policemen,  the  presidente  and  the 
former  presidente,  were  all  four  hung  in  that  same 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


371 


town  by  sentence  of  our  military  commission.  The 
records  were  thus  corrected  regarding  the  supposed 
desertion  of  the  American  soldier.  I hope  the  truth 
reached  the  friends  and  relatives  of  the  poor  fellow. 

Our  commission  tried  a case  of  the  burial  alive  of 
a native  woman  who  had  been  accused  by  her  insur- 
recto  enemies  of  being  an  “Americanista”  (friend  to 
the  Americans).  Two  peons,  or  “taos”  dug  the  grave 
under  the  direction  of  an  influential  native,  who  stood 
by  while  the  grave  was  being  dug.  The  grave  being 
completed,  the  woman  got  in  it  and  laid  herself  down, 
and  was  covered  up,  all  without  a whimper  from  her. 

The  man  who  superintended  the  grave  digging  was 
sentenced  to  death.  We  tried  many  other  cases,  about 
35  in  all,  but  there  was  one  very  interesting  case  which 
we  were  not  able  to  bring  to  justice,  because  of  failure 
to  capture  the  guilty  native  while  the  insurrection  was 
still  going  on.  Thirteen  natives  who  lived  in  Barotac 
had  been  working  on  the  rough  substitutes  for  barrack 
buildings  in  Dumangas,  and  on  Saturday  afternnoon 
they  were  returnng  home  with  their  week’s  earnings, 
when  they  were  halted  by  Colonel,  afterwards  Gen- 
eral Quentin  Salas,  and  his  men.  After  being  robbed, 
the  workmen  were  tied  and  tortured  in  various  ways, 
some  of  them  being  maimed  before  receiving  their 
real  punishment,  which  was  burial  alive.  One  man 
was  not  buried  quite  deep  enough,  and  I have  read 
the  translation  of  his  story  describing  the  incident. 
We  looked  hard  for  Quentin  Salas. 

Burying  alive  was  a method  of  killing  which  seemed 
to  possess  a peculiar  fascination  for  the  Filipino. 
Quite  a number  of  cases  occurred  in  other  parts  of 
the  archipelago,  showing  how  general  was  such 
fascination  and  practice. 


372 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


In  northern  Panay  two  natives  were  resting  after 
travelling  in  one  of  their  row  boats.  One  of  them  lay 
down  in,  or  near  the  boat,  and  went  to  sleep.  The 
other  went  ashore  and  moved  about,  and  finally  got 
restless  and  wanted  to  move  on.  After  trying  once 
or  twice  to  wake  up  his  comrade  and  get  him  to  help 
get  away  from  there,  the  man  who  had  waked  up  first 
went  down  again  to  the  boat,  coolly  killed  the  sleepy 
fellow,  cooked  and  ate  a part  of  his  flesh.  Another 
military  commission  settled  that  case,  but  I have  read 
the  translation  of  the  cannibal’s  confession. 

There  were  several  rich  English  firms  scattered 
about  the  islands,  having  branch  houses  in  the  prin- 
cipal towns,  and  agents  in  still  smaller  towns.  There 
were  two  big  banks,  one  or  two  steamship  companies, 
and  other  business  corporations. 

Those  business  firms  were  well  acquainted  with  the 
Filipinos.  Insurrecto  money  deposited  with  either  of 
them  could  easily  be  collected  in  Hong  Kong  by  insur- 
recto agents  there,  and  in  this  manner  was  some  money 
used  for  the  support  of  the  insurrection.  But,  even 
Glenn  could  not  get  positive  proof,  sufficient  to  bring 
the  Englishmen  to  justice. 

About  the  middle  of  January,  1901,  while  on  tem- 
porary duty  at  Ilo  Ilo,  I was  sent  to  Dumangas, 
Panay,  to  take  command  of  Goodier’s  Battalion  of  the 
38th  Vols.  and  Guy  V.  Henry’s  Battalion  of  the  26th, 
and  do  some  field  service  with  those  troops,  which 
were  already  at  Dumangas.  My  special  instructions 
were  to  make  a thorough  cleaning  out  of  Dumangas 
and  its  immediate  vicinity,  two  barrios  especially. 
The  two  battalions  named  were  camped  in  and  around 
the  patched-up  building  which  had  been  the  cause  of 
the  burying  alive  of  the  thirteen  native  workmen  by 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


373 


Quentin  Salas.  That  was  really  the  only  hour.e  left 
standing  in  that  town  of  Dumangas,  the  place  having 
been  burned  several  months  before  by  the  insurrectos 
in  order  to  oust  a company  of  volunteers  stationed 
there.  They  burned  even  the  church,  just  as  was  done 
at  Rosario,  in  Luzon,  when  it  was  rumored  that  the 
38th  Vols.  were  going  to  reoccupy  the  town. 

Capt.  Glenn  accompanied  me  to  Dumangas,  and 
remained  overnight,  long  enough  to  get  an  idea  as  to 
what  would  be  our  plan  of  action,  which  was  as  follows: 

Goodier’s  Battalion  was  to  be  divided  daily  into 
at  least  two  parts,  with  careful  instructions  to  thor- 
oughly scour  a certain  specified  territory.  Henry’s 
Battalion  was  to  similarly  treat  the  territory  adjoin- 
ing that  worked  by  Goodier’s  people.  The  next  day 
additional  territory  was  to  be  assigned  each  battalion, 
but  every  day  the  sphere  of  operations  was  to  include 
the  ground  passed  over  the  day  before,  and  that  plan 
was  to  be  continued  day  after  day. 

In  this  manner  the  neighborhood  was  to  be  made 
unhealthy  for  insurrectos.  We  discovered  and  de- 
stroyed several  places  where  Quentin  Salas  had,  at 
different  times,  made  his  headquarters,  or  temporary 
resting  place.  One  day  we  captured  his  “muchacho,” 
carrying  a native  basket  full  of  his  chief’s  clothing. 

Throughout  my  stay  at  Dumangas  I had  with  me, 
as  guide,  a mortal  enemy  of  Quentin  Salas,  who  had 
been  his  rival  at  Dumangas  when  both  of  them  were 
officers  in  the  insurrecto  army.  Julio  Buenaflor  was 
my  guide’s  name.  His  family  had  been  the  richest  in 
Dumangas,  and  had  owned  thousands  of  acres  of 
cultivated  land,  also  of  overflowed  land  which  was 
full  of  edible  fish.  Buenaflor  thirsted  for  the  blood  of 
his  enemy,  and  he  honestly  and  energetically  tried  to 


374 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


take  rne  to  where  we  could  find  Salas.  I have  no  idea 
as  to/  how  close  we  got  to  Quentin,  but  I heard  from 
Buenaflor  months  later  that  on  one  occasion  his 
enemy  lay  in  the  mud  and  watched  us  pass  within 
7.0  yards  of  his  hiding  place. 

Now  and  then  we  would  capture  some  fugitive 
native  and  compel  him  to  accompany  and  guide  us. 
Indeed,  we  had  in  this  manner  an  additional  guide  all 
the  time,  for  our  friend  Buenaflor  did  not  profess  to 
know  all  the  country  around  Dumangas.  Each  day  we 
would  start  on  our  hike  several  hours  before  daylight. 
I preferred  to  go  with  the  company  commanded  by  old 
David  Allen,  previously  mentioned.  I understood 
and  highly  appreciated  that  old  soldier’s  fine  qualities, 
and  I liked  him,  personally,  very  much.  Also,  I knew 
that  Allen  did  not  like  to  serve  under  Major  Goodier. 

Allen  had  enlisted  all  the  men  of  his  own  company, 
getting  them  from  around  his  home  in  Indiana,  and 
he  knew  and  called  each  man  by  his  first  name,  “Jim,” 
“Bill,”  etc.,  and  he  seemed  to  know  all  about  each 
man.  Allen’s  methods  were  not  those  of  the  regular 
Army,  but,  as  long  as  they  produced  such  fine  results 
as  I knew  they  did,  I felt  that  there  must  be  much 
good  in  them.  Most  likely  it  was  merely  his  personal 
influence,  his  personality.  Certainly  some  powerful 
influence  was  needed  to  cause  that  company  to  make 
for  itself  the  best  record  in  the  regiment.  I know  of 
no  better  record  made  by  any  company  in  the  islands. 

In  the  field  Capt.  Allen  slept  with  a bearded  sergeant 
whom  he  called  “Joe.”  In  this  connection  I must  say 
that  I do  not  recommend  for  imitation  the  methods 
used  by  that  fine  old  soldier.  A system  must  be  fol- 
lowed in  any  army,  one  that  has  been  the  result  of 
much  thought  and  experience,  and  one  that  can  be 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


375 


followed  by  all  sorts  of  men.  Such  an  exception  as 
Capt.  Allen  could  be  imitated  by  very  few  men,  after 
much  observation  of  his  methods  and  their  results. 
If  there  is  any  place  where  “familiarity  breeds  con- 
tempt,” it  surely  is  in  the  military  service  and  all 
through  it,  and  only  the  great  strength  of  character 
possessed  by  the  officer  described  could  possibly  have 
saved  him  from  utter  failure. 

In  our  hikes  through  the  swamps  and  bogs  of 
Dumangas  there  was  no  division  of  the  command  into 
the  various  parts:  point,  advance  guard,  flankers,  etc., 
as  required  by  our  drill  regulations. 

Most  of  the  time  there  was  not  even  a trail,  and 
we  could  see  only  a very  short  distance  in  any  direc- 
tion. Therefore,  we  marched  in  Indian  file,  or,  as 
skirmishers  moving  by  the  flank,  one  behind  the  other, 
with  convenient  distance  for  walking.  The  guide 
walked  in  front,  and  I followed  next  to  him,  always 
ready  to  shoot  on  the  shortest  notice,  and  this  I did 
on  several  occasions. 

On  one  occasion  we  were  returning  to  our  camp  after 
a long  day’s  hike,  and  we  were  following  the  winding 
course  of  a small  river,  when  we  were  aroused  by 
about  twenty  shots,  fired  into  us  from  our  right  flank. 
Instantly  every  man  of  us  dropped  to  the  ground  as 
though  dead,  and  then  we  squirmed  around  so  as  to 
face  the  enemy,  who  continued  to  fire  a few  shots, 
just  enough  to  inform  us  as  to  his  whereabouts. 

The  Captain  was  at  the  rear  of  the  company,  so 
I did  not  wait  for  him  to  give  any  commands.  I gave 
the  order,  “Fire  a few  shots,  men,  to  make  them  nerv- 
ous. Range,  200  yards.”  And  very  soon  afterwards 
I continued,  “Rise,  now,  so  as  to  face  them  good.” 

I remembered  my  previous  doubts  as  to  the  drill 


376 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


of  Allen’s  company,  and  I thought  to  keep  things 
steady  by  giving  some  homely  instructions.  I was 
badly  mistaken.  Allen’s  men  were  better  drilled  than 
I had  given  them  credit  for,  and  even  though  they 
were  volunteers  they  preferred  being  properly  com- 
manded, and  my  command  to  “swing  around  to  the 
left  a little”  was  wretchedly  executed.  I saw  my  mis- 
take, but  true  to  human  nature,  it  made  me  angry 
at  my  men  when  the  fault  was  all  my  own.  So  I 
yelled,  “You  want  drill  book  commands,  do  you? 
All  right,  I’ll  give  them  to  you.  Change  direction  to 
the  half  left,  double  time,  March.  Guide  center.” 

Those  men  from  Indiana  were  fine  soldiers.  Very 
properly  they  did  want  drill  commands,  and  good 
ones,  and  they  executed  the  drill  commands  beauti- 
fully, making  it  very  difficult  for  me  to  keep  up  with 
them.  That  experience  was  a good  lesson  for  me,  and 
I resolved  to  always  use  in  the  future,  especially  in 
times  of  danger  and  excitement,  the  exact  and  correct 
language  of  the  drill  book  in  giving  my  commands. 
By  reminding  the  men  of  the  drill  ground,  and  thus 
showing  them  the  proper  way  to  do  it,  it  will  tend  to 
take  away  excitement  and  make  thinking  machines 
of  the  men,  the  finest  sort  of  soldiers. 

On  those  daily  hikes  about  Dumangas,  more  than 
during  any  other  part  of  my  service  in  the  tropics, 
I enjoyed  the  cool  and  refreshing  water  from  the 
nearly  grown  cocoanut.  My  men  appeared  to  be  as 
fond  of  it  as  I was,  and  they  somehow  knew  how  to 
provide  a Filipino  to  run  up  the  tree  like  a monkey 
and  throw  down  all  the  fruit  we  wanted.  The  water 
from  a freshly  pulled  cocoanut  is  always  cool  and 
refreshing,  and  I never  knew  it  to  harm  any  one. 

I had  previously  seen  my  horses  and  packmules 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


377 


bog  down  in  the  mire,  and  need  assistance,  but  during 
this  week  of  work  in  the  Dumangas  swamps  I saw,  on 
at  least  one  occasion,  several  of  my  men  so  bogged 
down  in  the  mud  as  to  require  help.  But  it  all  passed 
off  as  fun.  Some  man  who  had  already  gotten  across 
would  hold  out  a long  pole,  or  throw  a piece  of  rope, 
and  in  this  manner  help  the  other  men  out,  most  of 
them  laughing  at  the  time. 

My  instructions  to  Major  Henry  were  very  general, 
and  they  were  executed  with  punctuality  and  preci- 
sion, and  in  the  quietest  manner  imaginable.  He  would 
succeed  in  getting  his  men  up,  fed  and  out  of  camp, 
with  the  least  possible  noise,  and  with  absolutely  no 
confusion,  all  this  in  the  darkness  of  2 a.m.  He  was 
an  excellent  subordinate,  and  showed  so  much 
originality  and  confidence  that  I had  no  sort  of  doubt 
as  to  his  ability  to  stand  alone  anywhere.  I still 
regard  him  as  an  excellent  officer. 

My  services  in  cleaning  up  the  vicinity  of  Dumangas 
met  with  my  general’s  warm  approbation,  to  my  great 
pleasure.  General  Hughes  was  not  afraid  of  informing 
his  subordinate  that  he  was  pleased  with  that  officer’s 
work.  This  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  General 
made  his  officers  work  all  the  harder  to  please  him. 

I was  promoted  Major  of  Infantry  Feb.  2,  1901, 
assigned  to  the  16th  Infantry,  detailed  Feb.  28th  in 
the  Adjutant  -General’s  Department,  and  ordered  to 
the  Department  of  the  Visayas,  exactly  where  I was 
then  serving.  I was  therefore  to  continue  with  General 
Hughes,  for  which  I was  very  glad.  However,  I con- 
tinued for  several  months  with  my  military  com- 
mission duties. 

In  May,  1901, 1 began  work  as  Adjutant  General  of 
the  Department  of  the  Visayas,  and  I accompanied 


378 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


my  chief  in  his  field  service,  going  with  him  first  to 
Calbayog,  Samar.  We  travelled  on  his  official  boat, 
the  Churruca,  one  of  the  best  of  the  small  steamers, 
stopping  en  route  at  Tacloban,  Leyte.  Soon  we  went 
up  to  Leguan,  on  an  island  of  the  same  name,  on  the 
north  coast  of  Samar,  and  opposite  the  mouth  of  a 
small  river.  Major  Fred.  Smith,  1st  Inf.,  commanded 
there,  and  with  his  little  command  had  to  keep  a sharp 
lookout  over  an  extended  area  of  very  bad  country. 

In  a little  launch,  drawing  about  six  and  a half  feet 
of  water,  we  went  up  the  river  about  fifteen  miles,  and 
returned  the  same  day,  being  fired  at  from  the  woods 
and  swamps,  both  going  and  returning,  but  no  one 
was  hurt.  We  had  an  equally  interesting  visit  to 
another  company,  on  another  river,  not  many  miles 
away.  Those  troops  were  located  close  to  the  mouth 
of  the  river,  but  the  breakers  apparently  completely 
barred  entrance.  We  anchored  about  a mile  and  a 
half  from  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  with  our  glasses 
we  searched  hard  and  for  quite  a while  before  discov- 
ering a narrow  doorway  through  the  breakers.  In  a 
good  row  boat,  by  carefully  following  the  correct  course, 
we  passed  in  and  out,  on  our  visit  to  that  company 
which  was  commanded  by  Capt.  Campbell  King, 
1st  Inf. 

Following  his  custom  General  Hughes  asked  quite 
a number  of  questions,  showing  good  knowledge  of 
conditions,  and,  having  thus  obtained  at  first  hand  a 
knowledge  of  all  changes,  he  gave  his  instructions  for 
future  conduct  of  affairs.  Then  we  returned  to  Leguan 
and  then  to  Calbayog,  where  he  established  his  field 
headquarters  during  his  stay  in  the  island  of  Samar. 
Very  simple  and  unpretentious  headquarters  did  he 
have.  Himself,  myself,  and  one  clerk. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


379 


One  day,  in  that  office,  he  tossed  me  a short  report 
to  read,  smiling  as  he  did  so.  Reading  the  report, 
which  was  from  a lieutenant  of  the  1st  Infantry  now 
on  the  retired  list,  I saw  two  items  like  the  following: 

“One  day  last  week  a small  detachment  of  my  com- 
pany was  passing  through  the  barrio — when  the 
natives  got  after  them,  and  my  men  had  to  run  for 
their  lives.  Those  people  know  that  I have  been 
there.” 

The  other  was : 

“Three  days  ago,  with  25  men  of  my  company,  I 
was  going  from  to  , and  when  near  bar- 
rio  , in  turning  a sharp  bend  of  the  road  we  came 

suddenly  upon  four  natives  who  were  engaged  in  the 
pleasant  occupation  of  preparing  pitfalls  for  us.  The 
fourth  man  escaped,  badly  wounded.” 

It  was  my  duty  to  go  with  some  newly  arrived 
organizations  to  various  places  in  Samar  and  Leyte. 
I went  with  the  11th  Infantry,  Col.  Isaac  DeRussy,  to 
Tacloban,  Leyte,  and  on  another  occasion  I located 
and  landed  Lieut.  Beacham  and  his  company  of  the 
1st  Infantry  on  the  northern  coast  of  Samar.  For  this 
purpose  we  went  up  the  west  coast  of  Samar  from 
Calbayog,  and  turned  eastward  around  the  north- 
west corner  of  the  island,  looking  for  a place  to  land 
at  and  establish  a camp  for  the  company.  We  finally 
discovered  a large  house  not  far  from  the  shore,  an- 
chored, manned  the  small  boats  and  pulled  for  the 
land  close  to  that  house.  We  found  that  the  big  house 
was  minus  one  side,  not  having  been  completed,  but 
there  was  enough  house  completed  to  afford  shelter 
for  the  company. 


380 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


While  the  landing  was  being  completed  I took  a 
small  detachment  and  made  a little  hike  of  an  hour 
or  so,  investigating  the  country  in  that  vicinity.  On 
returning  to  the  site  selected  for  camp  I saw  one  of 
Beacham’s  men,  fresh  from  God’s  Country,  riding  an 
immense  carabao  all  about  camp,  enjoying  it  very 
much,  himself,  and  affording  much  amusement  for 
the  others.  I told  the  men  to  take  a good  look,  for 
they  would  scarcely  ever  see  that  sight  again,  be- 
cause it  was  very  dangerous  for  an  American  to  go 
near  a carabao,  and  much  more  dangerous  for  him  to 
get  on  the  animal’s  back  and  try  to  ride  it.  The 
next  time  I saw  Beacham  seven  years  had  passed, 
and  he  was  a captain  in  my  9th  Infantry,  at  Fort 
Sam  Houston,  Texas. 

One  of  my  trips  was  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the 
mouth  of  Mao  River,  northwest  coast  of  Samar,  to 
learn  conditions  there.  I found  my  classmate,  Capt. 
R.  D.  Read,  10th  Cavalry,  there,  with  his  troop.  He 
had  recently  arrived  from  the  United  States,  and  was 
very  new  to  the  only  kind  of  work  which  brought  good 
results  in  dealing  with  the  Filipinos.  Like  all  the 
rest  of  us  he  learned  and  improved,  from  experience. 
His  camp  was  on  the  Mao  River,  right  at  the  mouth 
of  it,  and  the  location  was  very  pretty  for  a camp. 
There  was  not  a single  wagon  road  leading  out  from 
Mao,  only  trails.  Having  no  animals  at  the  time.  Read 
had  to  capture  some  ponies  to  be  used  for  pack  ani- 
mals, and  for  riding.  Later  on  I learned  that  Read 
was  scouting  extensively  about  the  country.  He  must 
have  found  some  horses. 

Soon  the  9th  Infantry  returned  from  China,  and 
the  regiment  was  scattered  about  in  small  garrisons. 
On  the  Churruca  I took  the  Headquarters  and  three 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


381 


companies,  to  drop  at  one-company  stations.  First 
we  dropped  Capt.  Frank  Schoeffel  and  his  company 
at  Tarranglan,  a village  on  the  narrow  neck  of  an 
isthmus,  thus  cutting  off  a promontory  a mile  or  two 
long. 

We  arrived  at  night,  and  anchored  more  than  a mile 
from  shore,  because  of  the  shallow  water  there.  We 
got  out  the  small  boats,  filled  them  with  men  and 
then  pulled  all  together  for  the  shore  and  the  small 
village  at  the  narrow  neck.  The  water  got  so  shallow7 
that  we  had  to  get  out  and  wade  several  hundred 
yards  to  the  shore.  We  found  the  little  town,  and  the 
narrow  neck  of  land.  I had  Capt.  Schoeffel  collect 
that  night  every  native  man  that  we  could  find  and 
thus  insure  having  assistance  in  preparing  his  camp, 
telling  him  to  take  for  quarters  such  houses  as  he 
needed.  I then  left  him  before  midnight,  went  aboard 
my  little  steamer,  and  sailed  south,  passing  by  the 
small  place  in  Samar,  at  the  upper  end  of  San  Bernar- 
dino Straits  where  I had  previously  landed  Capt. 
Lester  Cornish  and  his  troop  of  the  9th  Cavalry. 
Going  on  through,  we  stopped  and  landed  Head- 
quarters and  Capt.  Bookmiller’s  company  of  the  9th 
Infantry  at  Basey,  Samar.  The  regimental  com- 
mander, Major  Foote,  was  along. 

With  Bookmiller  and  his  company,  using  methods 
previously  described,  we  quickly  landed,  collected  a 
big  working  party,  or  detail  of  natives,  passed  through 
the  town  and  scouted  the  immediate  vicinity  beyond, 
and  then  selected  quarters  for  the  troops.  While  w7e 
were  scouting  we  came  to  a small  river  just  outside 
of  Basey,  and  there  we  looked  carefully  and  thorough- 
ly for  signs  of  insurrectos  in  arms.  We  soon  saw  a man 
coming  down  the  stream  in  a small  boat,  and  we 


382 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


waited  till  he  was  almost  opposite  to  us  before  we 
rose  and  levelled  our  rifles  at  him.  The  man  dropped 
his  paddle  and  looked  at  us,  and  then  we  quickly 
waved  for  him  to  pass  on,  when  we  turned  away  and 
returned  to  town.  The  poor  boatman  was,  apparently, 
in  the  last  stage  of  leprosy,  which  we  could  plainly 
see.  It  would  have  been  an  act  of  mercy  to  shoot  him 
dead,  and  end  his  misery,  but  somehow  no  one  likes 
to  do  that.  We  object  to  killing  for  such  a purpose. 

Going  on  down  to  Guiuan  we  stopped  and  went 
in  to  see  Lieut.  Downs  and  his  small  garrison.  While 
going  in  the  small  harbor  we  could  plainly  see  the 
bottom  in  many  places.  We  were  moving  over  a large 
coral  reef,  apparently.  The  young  post  commander 
was  making  preparations  for  the  hike  which  a few 
days  later  ended  his  life,  he  being  stabbed  to  death 
while  marching  at  the  head  of  his  company,  through 
the  high  grass.  A post  in  Leyte  was  named  for  him. 

At  Borongan,  on  the  east  coast  of  Samar  we  found 
Capt.  Getty  and  his  company  of  the  1st  Inf.,  and 
made  him  a short  visit,  after  which  we  proceeded  to 
Oras,  at  the  northeast  corner  of  Samar,  and  in  the 
usual  manner  we  there  landed  Capt.  Mark  Hersey 
and  his  company  of  the  9th  Inf.  We  saw  where  some 
one  had  been  living  in  a shack,  but  the  only  living 
thing  that  we  found  was  a three-fourths  starved  dog. 
We  saw  nothing  in  the  shape  of  furniture.  The  church 
floor  was  only  earth,  and  it  was  cut  up  by  pitfalls,  and 
those  dangerous  mantraps  were  also  scattered  through- 
out the  abandoned  town,  which  the  former  inhabi- 
tants strangely  left  standing.  A pitfall  was  prepared 
by  digging  out  the  earth  for  two  or  three  feet,  planting 
the  bottom  with  sharp  pointed  pieces  of  bamboo, 
covering  the  hole  with  dirt  and  brush,  and  then  kindly 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


383 


waiting  for  the  unwary  American  to  stumble  in,  and 
sometimes  he  did  it. 

After  again  visiting  Leguan,  on  the  north  coast  of 
Samar,  I wanted  to  see  how  Beacham  was  getting  on, 
so  I had  the  Churruca  move  along  close  to  the  shore 
among  some  islands  to  the  west  of  Leguan,  all  the 
time  looking  for  signs  of  Beacham’s  camp.  Suddenly, 
on  looking  down  into  the  water,  I saw  the  bottom 
plainly  all  along.  Immediately  I had  the  ship  back 
out  of  that  place,  and  I gave  up  the  idea  of  finding 
Beacham  from  that  direction. 

There  were  other  troops  being  landed  in  Samar 
about  that  time,  among  them  being  Capt.  Charles 
Young  and  his  troop  of  the  10th  Cav.,  located  up  the 
Gandara  River.  While  I was  on  duty  at  West  Point 
in  ’88- ’90,  Young  was  in  my  cadet  company,  grad- 
uating in  1889,  and  when  I met  him  somewhere  in 
Samar  he  showed  a feeling  of  great  gratitude,  thanking 
me  very  warmly  for  kindness  shown  him  at  the 
Academy.  All  I could  remember  was  that  I was  very 
careful  to  give  him  fair  and  just  treatment  always,  and 
during  the  summer  of  1889,  while  he  was  awaiting 
re-examination,  I assisted  him  to  obtain  a horse  to 
ride  daily  as  a health  exercise.  But,  Capt.  Young  was 
really  grateful  for  something.  However,  I was  able 
and  glad  to  do  him  a small  kindness  during  the  summer 
of  1901,  there  in  Samar.  One  day  in  Calbayog  I heard 
the  young  officer  who  was  commissary  officer  there 
growling  about  Capt.  Young’s  request  for  subsistence 
stores  without  having  sent  any  money  for  them.  He 
was  not  going  to  honor  the  request. 

After  some  inquiry  into  the  matter  I obtained  a 
list  of  the  articles  that  Capt.  Young  wanted,  paid  for 
them,  had  them  sent  to  him  without  delay,  sent  him 


384 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  list  and  the  price  of  the  things  sent,  and  I wrote 
him  a short  note  informing  him  what  I had  done, 
adding  that  he  could  reimburse  me  at  his  leisure  and 
convenience. 

I knew  that  the  money  could  not  be  safer  and  I so 
informed  the  young  commissary  officer,  telling  him 
of  my  acquaintance  writh  Capt.  Young  at  the  Academy. 

Capt.  Young  was  in  the  field  then,  and  had  no  way 
to  cash  any  paper,  but  somehow  he  returned  me  that 
money  in  a marvellously  short  time,  with  warmest 
thanks  for  my  kindness.  I have  not  seen  him  since, 
but  I know  from  his  record  that  he  has  continued  to 
fill  responsible  positions.  Whenever  I think  of  the 
colored  soldier  I alwrays  remember  Capt.  Young  and 
my  man  Beckam,  of  the  24th  Infantry  and 
9th  Immunes. 

Of  course  Capt.  Young  and  Lieut.  Beckam  were 
rare  exceptions,  the  woods  not  being  full  of  such  men, 
but  they  have  shown  wrhat  can  be  done  by  the  colored 
man,  and  there  must  be  others  like  them. 

It  was  then  late  in  June,  and  I was  sent  to  Ilo  Ilo 
to  act  in  the  General’s  name  at  Department  head- 
quarters, and  relieve  Major  Robert  Noble,  so  as  to 
enable  him  to  go  and  take  my  place  in  Samar  with  the 
General.  For  about  three  months  I tried  to  carry  out 
wffiat  I believed  the  General  would  like  to  have  done. 
Sometimes  I had  his  instructions  to  guide  me.  For 
instance:  he  told  me  to  allow  no  other  officer  of  the 
6th  Infantry,  or  other  regiment,  to  supersede  Capt. 
C.  G.  Morton  in  his  command  and  station  in  north 
Panay.  This  I was  careful  and  pleased  to  do,  for  I 
shared  the  General’s  good  opinion  of  that  officer,  now 
a general. 

The  war  in  the  Philippines  was  officially  declared  to 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


385 


be  ended  June  30,  1901,  and,  prior  to  that  date  many 
examining  boards  were  convened  to  determine  the 
fitness  of  volunteer  and  regular  enlisted  men  for  com- 
missions in  the  regular  army.  I was  senior  member  of 
one  of  those  boards,  Glenn  being  middle  member,  and 
French  and  Griffith,  in  succession,  serving  as  junior 
member.  Out  of  about  80  men  ordered  to  appear 
before  our  board  ten  or  fifteen  begged  to  be  excused 
and  did  not  appear,  and  others  dropped  out  from  one 
reason  or  another,  till  only  about  45  complete  sets 
of  examination  papers  had  to  be  made  out.  About 
thirteen  passed  satisfactory  examinations  in  every- 
thing, and  afterwards  five  or  six  more  were  given 
re-examinations  in  mathematics,  and  they,  too,  made 
good  on  the  second  test. 

At  the  first  examination  Marr  O’Connor  passed 
No.  1 and  very  soon  he  received  a commission  and 
remained  at  Ilo  Ilo  on  temporary  duty.  Irving 
Hunsaker  passed  an  excellent  examination  in  every- 
thing except  mathematics,  and,  with  ordinary  oppor- 
tunity for  preparation,  would  undoubtedly  have  done 
well  in  that  study  also.  His  excellent  record  and  well 
known  high  character  as  a soldier  obtained  for  him 
the  recommendation  of  the  board  that  he  be  given  a 
commission,  regardless  of  his  failure  to  get  a passing 
mark  in  mathematics  by  a very  small  margin. 

After  several  attempts  permission  was  finally  ob- 
tained to  give  Hunsaker  also  a re-examination  in 
mathematics.  Marr  O’Connor  was  recorder  of  the 
new  board  and  he  coached  Hunsaker,  through  a suc- 
cessful examination.  When  the  list  showing  relative 
rank  was  finally  published,  the  name  of  Hunsaker 
appeared  above  that  of  O’Connor,  and  it  stayed  there. 
This,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  O’Connor  was  an  officer 


386 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


several  months  while  the  other  man  was  still  an 
enlisted  man  in  the  regulars,  though  an  officer  of  the 
Philippines  Scouts,  and  doing  excellent  service.  Other 
similar  cases  exist,  causing  many  heartburns. 

I saw  the  38th  Volunteers  go  home,  carrying  away 
much  fine  material  for  regular  officers  and  enlisted 
men.  A number  did  soon  come  back  into  the  regular 
service,  some  as  officers  and  some  as  enlisted  men. 
But  there  were  still  others  who  should  have  made 
the  effort  to  win  commissions,  and  did  not  do  so,  for 
reasons  of  their  own.  I tried  very  hard  to  induce  big 
Robert  DeWare  to  try  for  a commission  as  soon  as  he 
arrived  in  God’s  Country. 

That  young  soldier  was  a sergeant  at  Lipa  when  I 
went  to  Tayabas,  and  he  was  in  charge  of  my  small 
mounted  detachment  on  that  trip.  As  we  travelled 
along  I became  aware,  from  occasional  fragments  of 
conversation  that  I caught,  that  DeWare  and  “the 
Colonel”  were  both  Texans.  Then  I remembered 
hearing  at  Lipa  that  we  had  there  a cousin  of  Senator 
C.  A.  Culberson,  of  Texas,  as  a sergeant  in  one  of 
the  companies  there.  I took  a good  look  at  my  fellow 
statesman,  the  commander  of  my  little  escort,  and 
I saw  an  unusually  fine  looking  big,  boyish  looking 
young  soldier,  bold  and  confident.  From  that  time 
I noticed  the  young  fellow  closely.  He  was  exceedingly 
efficient  during  the  entire  trip  to  Tayabas  and  return. 
His  pony  gave  out,  a few  miles  from  Lipa,  and 
DeWare  had  to  walk  in,  having  given  his  saddle  to 
some  other  man  to  carry,  the  pony  having  to  be 
abandoned.  DeW^are  was  taken  sick  soon  after  our 
return  to  Lipa,  and  he  was  sick  for  some  time. 

When  returned  to  duty,  but  too  weak  to  do  any 
hiking,  or  other  field  duty,  I put  him  in  charge  of  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


387 


policing  of  Lipa.  I detailed  him  as  provost  sergeant, 
and  his  duty  consisted  in  keeping  clean  the  streets 
of  Lipa  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  our  quarters  and 
barracks,  working  native  prisoners  for  this  purpose, 
and  it  was  a most  important  duty,  though  not  an 
attractive  one,  and  most  men  would  not  like  it,  or 
succeed  in  it. 

I remarked  to  my  Adjutant,  “This  youngster 
comes  from  a very  fine  family  in  Texas.  If  he  does 
well  as  provost  sergeant  it  will  show  him  to  be  a good 
one,  for  the  duties  of  that  office  are  not  agreeable, 
but  they  are  very  important.”  While  Robert  DeWare 
was  provost  sergeant  at  Lipa  he  made  marked  im- 
provement in  everything  that  he  touched.  No  matter 
how  dirty  the  work  he  went  right  at  it  without  protest, 
and  neglected  nothing. 

I was  greatly  surprised,  and  very  much  pleased,  for 
the  youngster  was  an  unusually  handsome  and 
attractive  six  footer,  and  still  growing.  When  he  had 
been  my  provost  sergeant  two  or  three  months  my 
post  sergeant  major  was  needed  elsewhere,  and  I had 
to  look  around  for  someone  to  take  his  place.  I was 
glad  to  remember  how  well  DeWare  had  been  doing 
as  provost  sergeant,  so  I now  gave  the  boy  another 
test.  I made  him  sergeant  major. 

He  surprised  me  more  and  more  by  his  intelligent 
attention  to  his  new  duties,  and  by  a real  genius  for 
system  and  method,  as  well  as  for  general  efficiency. 
When  we  left  Lipa  his  company  commander  wanted 
him  for  first  sergeant,  and  when  the  regiment  sailed 
for  home  the  young  man  was  still  first  sergeant,  and 
a very  efficient  one,  besides  having  grown  much  in 
size  and  strength. 

When  I tried  to  induce  him  to  make  an  effort  for 


388 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


a commission  in  the  regulars  DeWare  insisted  that 
he  was  too  ignorant,  and  could  not  pass  the  examina- 
tion. After  returning  to  the  United  States  he  attended 
the  Agricultural  and  Mechanical  College  of  Texas, 
and  became  a noted  football  player  there.  In  him  the 
Army  lost  a fine  officer.  I had  equally  poor  luck  in 
my  attempt  to  persuade  Lieut.  Thornton  to  join  the 
regulars.  He  accepted  the  “bird  in  hand”  job  in  the 
islands,  and  remained  there  under  the  civil  govern- 
ment after  the  departure  of  the  regiment. 

I hated  also  to  part  with  my  mounted  orderly, 
Private  Bladen,  the  very  young  soldier  from  South 
Carolina  who  took  pity  on  my  good  black  horse  and 
fed  him  at  Lipa,  on  our  return  from  Batangas,  in 
January,  1900.  This  young  soldier  was  also  a mere 
boy,  and  not  very  strong,  physically,  but  he  wanted 
to  remain  in  the  islands  as  a regular.  Having  noticed 
Bladen’s  weak  lungs  I dissuaded  him  from  staying 
any  longer  in  the  tropics,  and  told  him  that  it  would 
be  much  better  for  him  to  go  back  home  and  enjoy 
himself  in  South  Carolina  for  a month  or  two,  when, 
if  still  desirous  of  being  a regular  he  could  easily  go 
and  enlist  in  time  for  his  service  to  count  as  continuous. 
The  boy  took  my  advice,  and  five  years  later  he  wrote 
to  me  from  Atlanta,  telling  me  how  well  he  was  doing. 

In  the  latter  part  of  September,  1901,  I left  Ilo  Ho 
on  sick  leave,  to  be  spent  in  China  and  Japan,  and  I 
took  the  English  steamer  Kaifong,  which  stopped  en 
route  at  Cebu  where  I found  General  Hughes  busy 
at  work  trying  to  pacify  the  island  of  Cebu.  The 
Kaifong  had  to  remain  about  a week  at  Cebu  for  part 
of  its  cargo,  and  I was  glad  to  go  ashore,  back  to  duty 
with  my  chief  during  our  delay,  and  I grew  to  like 
him  still  more.  Some  Congressmen  came  there  looking 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


389 


for  political  campaign  data,  and  they  asked  General 
Hughes  some  questions  about  the  smoke  then  visible 
in  various  directions  from  the  town.  They  were  told 
that  he  (Hughes)  assumed  entire  responsibility  for 
every  smoke  in  sight;  that  there  were  various  locali- 
ties near  by  where  insurrecto  soldiers  had  been  living, 
occupying  those  houses  as  their  quarters,  and  that 
he  had  ordered  all  such  buildings  burnt,  or  otherwise 
destroyed.  The  Congressmen  had  nothing  further  to 
say  on  that  subject.  One  United  States  Senator  who 
accompanied  those  gentlemen  to  Cebu,  did  not  call  on 
the  Commanding  General  at  all,  which  was  rather 
odd,  considering  the  fact  that  the  Senator  had  been 
a major  in  the  Confederate  army,  and  therefore  knew 
something  of  military  etiquette. 

While  at  Cebu  I was  witness  to  some  important 
surrenders  of  local  insurrectos,  in  which  I represented 
my  general.  The  natives  at  and  around  Cebu  were  of 
such  an  unfriendly  disposition  that  I tried  to  induce 
my  general  to  wait  a while  and  whip  them  a little 
more  before  stopping  to  talk  surrender  with  them.  It 
would  have  produced  better  results  for  the  future. 

About  September  29th  or  30th  we  received  news  of 
the  massacre  at  Balangiga,  Samar,  of  almost  all  of 
Company  “C,”  9th  Infantry,  the  information  coming 
from  Capt.  E.  V.  Bookmiller,  whom  I had  landed 
with  his  company  at  Basey  some  months  before.  When 
the  few  survivors  of  that  affair  reached  Basey  in  their 
row  boats,  Capt.  Bookmiller  immediately,  without 
waiting  for  orders  from  anyone,  put  the  greater  part 
of  his  company  aboard  a small  steamer  which  hap- 
pened to  be  present,  and  hurried  to  Balangiga.  Be- 
cause of  my  subsequent  long  connection  with  the  9th 
Infantry  I will  insert  here  a short  account  of  the 


390 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Balangiga  massacre,  taken  from  Capt.  Fred.  Brown’s 
Official  History  of  the  9th  Infantry,  but  not  in  his 
exact  language,  being  very  much  abbreviated. 

Company  “C”  was  landed  at  Balangiga  on  August 
11,  1901,  under  the  command  of  Captain  T.  W. 
Connell.  He  had  with  him  1st  Lieut.  E.  A.  Bumpus, 
9th  Inf.  and  Surgeon  R.  S.  Griswold,  Med.  Dept. 

The  officers  were  quartered  in  the  convent,  which 
was  adjoining  to,  and  connected  with  the  church  by 
a covered  hallway.  The  river  was  immediately  in  rear 
of  the  church  and  convent.  Fronting  the  church  was 
the  plaza,  and  on  the  opposite  side  of  it  was  the  row 
of  buildings  occupied  as  barracks,  kitchen,  etc.  The 
men  were  quartered  partly  in  the  “tribunal”  (city 
hall),  and  partly  in  two  small  buildings  not  far  off. 

Two  conical  tents  at  one  corner  of  the  main  barracks 
gave  shelter  for  prisoners.  The  Captain  was  a Cath- 
olic, which  accounts  for  a good  deal.  The  church  was 
connected  with  the  convent.  There  were  64  native 
prisoners  under  guard,  and  20  more  reported  for 
early  work.  Such  conditions  existed  September  28th, 
and  the  previous  night  Lieut.  Bumpus  had  returned 
from  Basey  with  mail,  etc.  The  men  ate  breakfast 
mostly  under  the  main  barracks,  but  some  few  ate 
in  the  two  separate  shacks.  Sergeant  Betron  lived  in 
one  separate  house,  and  Sergeant  Markley  lived  in 
the  other. 

Shortly  after  reveille,  when  the  men  had  almost 
finished  breakfast,  and  all  the  native  workers  were 
present,  ready  for  work,  the  native  chief  of  police 
gave  the  signal,  which  was  repeated  from  the  church 
by  ringing  the  bell.  The  natives  jumped  for  their 
piles  of  working  bolos,  and,  assisted  by  many  other 
natives  who  suddenly  appeared,  they  rushed  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


391 


various  buildings  used  as  barracks  to  get  possession 
of  the  men’s  rifles.  Most  of  the  men  were  still  at 
the  table,  but,  by  good  running  and  hitting,  some 
soldiers  reached  each  building,  fought  their  way  to 
their  rifles,  and,  finally  they  drove  the  natives  out  of 
town  and  across  the  river. 

They  looked  for  their  officers,  and  found  all  three 
dead,  Capt.  Connell  being  the  only  one  of  them  who 
got  out  of  the  convent,  and  he  was  killed  a few  feet 
away  from  the  building.  Including  the  three  officers 
and  one  hospital  corps  man  there  were  74  American 
soldiers  in  Balangiga  that  morning.  Only  four 
escaped  without  a scratch,  and  only  fifteen  survived 
their  wounds.  Sergeants  Betron  and  Markley  put  the 
survivors  in  small  row  boats  and  went  to  Basey,  each 
boat  for  itself.  It  is  believed  that  a great  many  natives 
were  killed.  The  grave  containing  their  dead  was 
never  opened  for  examination  and  count,  so  that  the 
exact  number  is  not  known.  Natives  gave  their  dead 
as  one  hundred,  but  I think  that  number  too  great. 

Captain  Connell’s  being  a Catholic  undoubtedly 
caused  him  to  trust  the  native  priest  and  others  more 
than  he  should  have  done.  Communication  between 
church  and  convent  was  too  easy,  and  I believe  that 
the  guard  stationed  there  was  not  strict  enough,  by 
any  manner  of  means.  Precaution  against  surprise 
was  evidently  not  very  good,  too  much  confidence 
being  placed  in  the  priest.  The  men  fought  wrell, 
considering  their  handicap. 

General  Hughes  was  greatly  worried  over  the  Bal- 
angiga massacre,  and  saw  to  it  that  every  effort 
possible  was  made  to  remedy  matters.  Col.  Isaac 
DeRussy,  who  was  at  Tacloban,  with  part  of  the 
11th  Infantry,  proceeded  promptly  to  the  scene  of 


392 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


trouble,  but  Bookmiller  had  gotten  there  first  and  had 
left  for  Basey.  Afterwards,  in  his  capacity  as  depart- 
ment judge  advocate,  Capt.  Glenn  collected  docu- 
mentary evidence  that  the  attack  on  Balangiga  had 
been  in  preparation  for  weeks,  perhaps  for  months. 
The  priest  was  not  at  Balangiga  on  September  28th. 

Believing  that  my  services  were  not  indispensable 
I proceeded  on  my  sick  leave,  gaining  length  of  leave 
by  having  been  on  duty  at  Cebu,  for  General  Hughes 
made  my  leave  begin  with  my  departure  from  that 
place,  instead  of  Ilo  Ilo. 

From  Cebu  the  Kaifong  went  straight  to  Hong 
Kong,  where  I had  to  remain  about  eight  days,  and 
I found  the  weather  very  hot  there  in  October.  Hong 
Kong  is  on  a narrow  and  very  mountainous  island,  so 
curving  as  to  make,  in  connection  with  the  curve  of 
the  main  land,  a fine  harbor.  The  long  streets  of  the 
place  are  parallel  to  the  water,  and  are  very  few  in 
number.  The  short  streets  are  many,  and  they  climb 
the  mountain  to  the  top  in  some  places,  there  being 
an  electric  railway  to  the  top  at  the  point  where  there 
are  several  fine  hotels.  I found  the  service  at  the 
Connaught  House  very  satisfactory. 

While  in  Hong  Kong  I bought  for  Col.  Turrill, 
Medical  Department,  and  shipped  back  to  him  at 
Ilo  Ilo,  a fine  and  complete  set  of  Canton  china.  I 
wish  I had  one  just  like  it. 

From  Hong  Kong  I sailed  for  Nagasaki,  Japan,  via 
Shanghai,  China,  on  one  of  the  big  Empress  Line 
steamships,  and  I had  for  companions  some  of  the 
delegation  of  political  campaign  data  seekers  whom 
I had  met  in  Cebu  not  long  before.  In  buying  my 
ticket  I obtained  a discount  of  fifteen  per  cent,  be- 
cause of  the  ship’s  regulation  allowing  such  considera- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


393 


tion  to  members  of  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  diplo- 
matic corps,  army,  navy  and  marines,  of  all  countries. 
I have  never  heard  of  such  being  done  in  the  United 
States. 

As  the  ship  passed  along  the  channel,  in  leaving 
Hong  Kong,  I stood  on  the  deck,  looking  hard  at  the 
island,  trying  to  locate  all  manner  of  military  works 
for  the  defence  of  the  city  and  island,  and  I gradually 
drifted  as  far  back  as  I could  get,  till  finally  I stood 
against  the  railing  aft,  gazing  at  the  end  of  the  island, 
around  which  I could  plainly  see.  I felt  disappointed 
with  the  result,  and  could  not  restrain  myself,  so 
I broke  loose  with,  “Just  as  I thoughl.  There  is 
nothing  there  to  protect  the  island  against  infantry,” 
and  I looked  around  to  see  who  had  heard  me. 

A few  feet  from  me  sat  a gentleman  who  resembled 
in  appearance  one  of  the  Congressmen,  I had  seen  at 
Cebu,  and  to  him  I then  spoke,  “I  beg  your  pardon, 
but,  didn’t  I see  you  at  Cebu  about  two  weeks  ago?” 
When  he  answered  in  the  negative  I introduced 
myself,  “I  am  Major  Crane,  of  Uncle  Sam’s  regular 
infantry.  I am  convalescing  in  China  and  Japan  for 
a month  or  two.” 

The  stranger  told  me  that  he  was  Major  Locke,  of 
her  Majesty’s  Indian  Infantry. 

I now  continued,  “I’ll  repeat  to  you  what  I said  a 
moment  ago.  I am  an  infantryman,  and  I have  been 
looking  with  all  my  eyes  to  see  what  the  British  have 
on  that  island  to  prevent  infantry  from  gaining  the 
mountain  ridge,  which  I have  noticed  to  be  con- 
tinuous from  end  to  end  of  the  island,  commanding 
the  water  on  all  sides.  I have  seen  several  batteries 
for  use  against  ships  and  they  might  possibly  be  need- 
ed, but  around  this  end  of  the  island  small  boats 


394 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


from  ships  safe  from  those  batteries  could  quickly 
land  infantrymen,  who  could  from  that  ridge  capture 
every  battery  on  this  island.” 

British  officers  are  not  so  outspoken  as  we  are. 
Major  Locke  made  no  reply  to  my  speech,  but  I 
believe  that  he  wrote  a letter  to  his  superiors,  telling 
them  of  the  American  infantryman’s  friendly  criticism 
of  Hong  Kong’s  defenses. 

I saw  a great  deal  of  Major  Locke  during  the  next 
few  days,  and  I grew  to  like  him  very  much.  He  was  a 
fine  fellow,  being  very  modest  and  intelligent.  At  the 
stop,  off  the  mouth  of  the  big  river  at  Shanghai,  we 
went  to  the  city  together  on  the  short  railroad,  and 
from  the  car  windows  we  saw  carabaos  working,  and 
cotton  growing.  The  cotton  had  been  sown  broadcast, 
like  millet,  and  consequently  the  plant  was  not  sus- 
ceptible of  receiving  the  great  additional  labor  and 
care  which  is  given  it  in  our  South. 

Major  Locke  and  I went  to  the  Hotel  Astor  in 
Shanghai,  took  adjoining  rooms  on  the  ground  floor, 
each  with  a bathroom,  and,  after  getting  something 
to  eat  we  went  out  and  got  two  “rickshas”  and  saw 
the  town.  It  was  my  first  ride  in  a man-pulled  wagon, 
and  at  first  I felt  ill  at  ease  having  a man  hauling  me 
about  in  a two  wheel  vehicle,  called,  jinrickisha,  or 
’ricksha.  The  Chinaman  horse  seemed,  however,  to 
have  very  little  trouble  in  pulling  me  along  at  a trot. 

Shanghai  is  built  on  a big  river,  and  the  parts  that 
we  saw  looked  very  much  like  a modern  city,  and 
very  much  up-to-date,  fully  as  much  as  Hong  Kong. 
Various  nationalities  had  their  own  special  localities, 
or  “concessions,”  where  only  they  were  permitted  to 
build.  At  night  we  visited  the  armory  of  a British 
volunteer  company,  or  battalion  and  there  we  heard 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


395 


some  fine  music.  On  leaving  the  building  I lingered  in 
the  hall,  looking  at  the  rifles,  etc.,  used  by  the  British 
volunteers  of  Shanghai,  and  while  so  engaged  I saw 
on  the  wall  two  centipedes,  which  I promptly  killed. 
So,  the  centipede  lives  in  Asia,  too,  and  looks  just  as 
venemous  as  in  the  United  States. 

In  the  Hotel  Astor  the  Japanese  inhabitants  of 
Shanghai  were  giving  a banquet  to  their  general  who 
had  commanded  the  Japanese  contingent  on  the  march 
to  Pekin  during  the  Boxer  uprising  a few  months 
previous.  I saw  the  noted  guest  of  that  occasion,  but 
did  not  meet  him. 

At  Nagasaki  I left  the  ship  and  went  to  a hotel. 
The  steamer  was  booked  to  sail  late  that  afternoon, 
and  two  or  three  hours  before  the  hour  set  for  depart- 
ure Major  Locke  appeared  at  my  hotel  and  proposed 
a walk  about  the  town.  I was  glad  to  walk  with 
him.  He  was  going  on  a six  months’  leave,  and  expected 
to  spend  most  of  the  time  in  the  “states,”  and  did 
not  expect  to  visit  Great  Britain  at  all,  which  seemed 
rather  strange  to  me. 

At  that  time  British  feeling  against  Russia  was  very 
strong,  and  my  English  major  plainly  showed  his 
displeasure  at  seeing  any  foreign  warships  in  the  harbor 
of  Nagasaki,  not  classing  as  foreign  our  American 
ships.  In  parting  we  both  expressed  our  hopes  of 
serving  together  on  the  same  side  some  day.  I have 
not  seen,  or  heard  of  him  since  that  day,  although  I 
have  looked  hard  for  his  name  in  the  war  news  from 
the  Great  War  in  Europe.  The  famous  British  general 
Sir  Henry  Rawlinson  was,  I am  sure,  the  colonel  of 
the  British  regiment  which  was  brigaded  with  the  9th 
Infantry  during  the  Boxer  trouble  in  China.  For 
years  he  used  to  send  the  colonel  of  the  9th  Infantry 


396 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


some  kind  greeting,  no  matter  where  we  were  serving 
at  the  time.  Rawlinson  made  a great  name  for  him- 
self in  France. 

At  Nagasaki  I found  my  classmate  John  Baxter 
on  duty  as  captain  and  quartermaster,  and  for  several 
days  we  renewed  old  friendship  with  much  pleasure. 
Then  I went  to  Takeo,  on  the  same  island,  and  not 
far  from  Moji,  opposite  Shimonoseki  on  the  main 
island  of  Japan.  This  Moji  must  not  be  confused 
with  Mogi,  ten  miles  from  Nagasaki  and  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  mountain  from  that  city. 

Takeo  was  a very  attractive  resort  because  of  fine 
springs  of  hot  water,  and  arrangements  for  bathing 
very  convenient  to  the  hotels  there.  I found  at  my 
little  hotel  two  British  naval  officers  from  Wei-Hei- 
Wei,  China,  and  they  proved  to  be  very  agreeable 
gentlemen. 

One  day,  the  three  of  us,  guided  by  our  landlord, 
walked  five  or  six  miles  to  see  the  making  of  big  vases. 
Vases  from  two  to  three  feet  high  were  being  made  by 
a single  workman,  who  used  the  simplest  sort  of 
machinery,  and  seemed  to  do  it  mostly  by  quick  move- 
ment of  hands  and  feet.  Our  entire  walk  was  about 
eleven  miles,  and  we  watched  carefully  to  note  how 
our  Japanese  guide  would  stand  it,  for  he  wore  wooden 
shoes,  with  a strap  on  top  separating  the  big  toe  from 
the  others.  Japanese  stockings  are  also  made  with  the 
same  intention.  Our  guide  was  much  fresher  at  the 
end  of  the  walk  than  either  of  us,  and  we  wondered 
how  he  did  it. 

From  Takeo  I went  one  day  to  see  some  celebrated 
factories  of  Japanese  china  at  Arita,  about  30  miles 
distant  by  rail.  I saw  plates,  cups,  saucers,  etc.,  pass 
through  every  stage,  from  cubical  blocks  of  dry  clay 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


397 


to  being  hand  painted.  The  painting  was  being  done 
by  a row  or  line  of  Japanese  of  mixed  sexes  and  ages, 
kneeling  and  sitting  side  by  side,  facing  the  windows 
which  were  only  several  feet  away  and  very  numerous. 
That  work  looked  to  be  death  on  the  eyes. 

After  seven  or  eight  days  at  Takeo  I went  to  Kobe- 
Hiogo  by  rail,  and  I enjoyed  greatly  the  beautiful 
scenery,  as  seen  from  the  car  windows.  The  farm  land 
seemed  to  be  a system  of  terraces,  there  being  some- 
times several  hundred  different  levels  on  the  same 
mountain  side.  We  travelled  close  to  the  Inland  Sea, 
and  could  enjoy  the  panorama  presented  by  that 
wonderful  network  of  small  islands. 

Japanese  railroad  officials  and  employees  knew 
enough  of  English  to  enable  me  to  get  along  without 
difficulty.  I found  Kobe  to  be  a fine  city  like  Shanghai, 
with  foreign  “concessions.”  Our  Country,  however, 
has  no  concessions  in  China,  or  in  Japan;  at  least  I 
got  that  impression.  I saw  none,  and  I heard  of  none. 
There  were  several  big  hotels  in  Kobe,  run  in  Ameri- 
can, or  in  European  style,  being  very  comfortable, 
and  reasonable  as  to  cost.  It  is  the  seaport  for  Osaka, 
the  greatest  manufacturing  city  in  Japan,  also  for 
Kyoto  the  old  capital  of  Japan,  and  competing  with 
Yokohama  for  first  place  as  the  big  seaport.  From 
Kobe  I visited  Osaka,  Kyoto  and  some  beautiful  hot 
springs  at  Arima.  There  were  Japanese  pheasants  in 
the  hills  around  Arima,  and  I got  my  landlord  to  go 
hunting  one  day,  but  we  found  nothing.  At  Osaka 
I went  to  see  the  famous  old  fort,  which  has  been 
taken,  destroyed  and  rebuilt  several  times  during 
Japanese  civil  wars,  and  it  still  continues  to  be 
garrisoned.  I had  omitted  to  provide  myself  with  the 
necessary  papers,  and  therefore  I could  not  enter  the 


398 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


sallyport,  but  I saw  enough  to  repay  me  for  the 
’ricksha  ride. 

In  and  around  old  Kyoto  are  many  very  interesting 
points,  palaces,  temples,  etc.,  and  that  city,  as  well 
as  Kobe,  is  specially  noted  for  the  production  of  work 
in  cloisonne,  damascene,  etc.  I brought  away  a num- 
ber of  cutting  weapons  of  various  sizes  and  shapes, 
also  a small  selection  of  the  beautiful  work  done  by 
those  people.  The  shops  where  such  articles  were  dis- 
played, I found  to  be  very  attractive. 

Many  of  the  battles  fought  during  the  old  time 
civil  wars  of  Japan,  took  place  around  Kyoto,  and 
between  that  city  and  Osaka.  Until  the  ’60’s  of  the 
last  century  Kyoto  was  the  capitol  of  the  Mikados, 
but  for  about  650  years  prior  to  that  date  the  real 
power  had  been  wielded  by  the  Shoguns,  Generals  in 
Chief  of  Japan,  and  those  despots  lived  in  some  other 
city,  Kamakura,  and  afterwards  in  Tokyo.  The 
Shogun  always  ruled  in  the  name  of  a Mikado  during 
that  long  period,  and  kept  the  Mikado  practically 
a prisoner  in  his  own  palace  at  Kyoto,  allowing  him 
no  real  power  whatever,  but  never  hurting  him.  In 
those  civil  wars,  of  which  the  Japanese  had  their  full 
share,  rival  Shoguns  fought  each  other  in  the  names 
of  their  puppet  Mikados. 

The  History  of  Japan,  written  by  Murdock,  assisted 
by  a learned  Japanese  scholar,  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  instructive  books  that  I ever  read, 
and  the  description  of  the  “100  Years  War  of  the 
Chrysanthemum”  is  the  part  specially  entertaining. 
The  Minamoto  family  and  their  descendants,  the 
Ashikaga  and  Tokugawa  families,  furnished  all  the 
usurping  rulers  of  Japan  who  dared  to  call  themselves 
“Shoguns.”  Those  three  families  and  the  family  of 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


399 


the  Tis'ra  were  all  descended  from  some  Mikado  of 
old  times,  different  Mikados. 

Even  Hideyoshi  was  not  so  bold  as  to  call  himself 
“Shogun,”  but  he  and  several  others  ruled  Japan, 
each  in  the  name  of  a puppet  Mikado,  perhaps  an 
infant.  Hideyoshi  was  the  ruler  of  Japan  that  tried 
to  subjugate  Korea,  and  failed  only  because  his  navy 
was  beaten  by  a Korean  admiral,  Yi  Sun-Sin  who  used 
something  like  the  old-time  Greek  fire  in  his  successful 
efforts  against  the  Japanese  ships.  Hideyoshi’s  son 
was  ousted  by  the  founder  of  the  Tokugawa  dynasty 
of  Shoguns,  old  Iyeyasu,  and  this  dynasty  was  ousted 
in  the  ’60’s  of  the  last  century,  when  the  Mikado 
came  into  his  own. 

When  I was  ready  to  start  back  to  my  station  in  the 
Philippines  I went  to  the  office  of  the  Empress  Line 
of  steamships  in  Yokohama,  and  told  them  that  I 
would  like  to  avail  myself  of  the  fifteen  per  cent  dis- 
count allowed  army  officers.  It  was  granted  me,  just 
as  before,  without  any  apparent  effort  to  verify  my 
statements.  In  the  big  English  banks  I noticed  the 
same  apparent  lack  of  caution. 

Before  leaving  Ilo  Ilo  I had  obtained  a draft  from 
the  local  Chartered  Bank  of  India,  Australia  and 
China,  but  with  no  agreement  as  to  what  particular 
places  I was  limited  to,  and  this  I found  to  be  very 
convenient.  At  Hong  Kong,  Nagasaki,  Kobe,  Yoko- 
hama, Hong  Kong  and  Manila  I used  the  draft  given 
me  by  the  bank  last  visited,  the  credit  growing  steadily 
less.  A Chinaman  always  handed  me  my  new  draft, 
and  some  cash  for  current  expenses,  this  even  in  Japan. 

In  leaving  Japan  I took  steamer  at  Yokohama, 
having  from  that  place  made  a short  visit  to  Tokyo, 
where  I noted  that  the  fine  buildings  were  all  of  pure 


400 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


modern  design,  European,  or  American.  At  no  place 
did  I have  anyone  identify  me,  or  vouch  for  me  in 
any  way,  and  finally  at  Yokohama,  when  I was  get- 
ting my  draft  for  use  at  Hong  Kong,  I inquired  if  I 
should  bring  someone  to  identify  me  as  the  person 
described  in  the  draft,  the  bank  teller  smiled  and 
asked,  “No,  but,  how  are  they  getting  on  down  at 
Manila  now?”  He  was  an  American  who  had  served 
in  the  Volunteers  in  the  islands. 

From  Kobe,  where  we  merely  touched,  to  Hong 
Kong  I enjoyed  very  much  the  companionship  of  an 
Australian  family,  consisting  of  the  father,  a judge  of 
the  Supreme  Court  at  Sydney,  the  mother,  the  son 
fresh  from  Eton  and  the  daughter  just  graduated 
from  some  select  girls’  school.  The  Judge  and  his  wife 
had  both  been  born  in  England,  but  had  been  taken 
to  Australia  in  very  early  childhood,  and  until  that 
trip  they  had  never  been  back  to  the  old  country. 

They  had  gone  on  to  get  their  son  and  daughter  and 
bring  them  home,  taking  the  opportunity  to  see  once 
more  their  own  native  land,  and  to  incidentally  zigzag 
across  the  United  States  and  Canada  en  route  home. 
Tall,  awkward  in  their  movements,  English  in  their 
features,  simple,  honest  and  true,  they  were  fine 
specimens,  of  which  any  country  might  well  be  proud. 
The  father  had  very  little  to  say  about  being  a supreme 
court  judge,  but  the  mother  could  not  refrain  from 
frequently  mentioning  her  brother  “Sir  John.” 

When  I landed  at  Manila  I learned  that  I was 
assigned  to  the  Department  of  South  Philippines,  with 
headquarters  at  Cebu,  Brigadier  General  Wade  com- 
manding. So,  to  Cebu  I went,  to  enter  upon  my 
new  duties,  regretting  very  much  the  recent  departure 
of  General  Hughes  for  the  United  States. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


At  Cebu  I was  again  Adjutant  General,  this  time 
under  a new  chief.  The  insurrection  was  officially 
at  an  end,  and  the  machinery  of  civil  rule  was,  locally, 
again  in  the  hands  of  the  natives,  and  they  were 
using  it  to  get  even  with  the  Army,  and  therefore 
trouble  was  made  for  many  officers  because  of  what 
had  happened  during  military  operations  months  be- 
fore, advantage  being  taken  of  the  opportunity  by  the 
only  half  whipped  native  population  of  the  island  of 
Cebu  and  by  needy  American  lawyers  who  now  ap- 
peared on  the  scene  to  assist  in  making  trouble  for 
the  Army. 

Even  though  the  war  had  been  officially  declared 

I at  an  end,  the  insurrection  in  Samar  was  still  alive, 
and  Malvar  was  still  hidden  in  Batangas  Province. 
But  the  Samar  leader,  Lucban,  was  finally  captured 
by  a detachment  of  Philippine  Scouts  under  Lieut. 
Adolf  Strebler,  who  had  been  sent  out  from  Leguan 
by  the  commanding  officer  there,  Capt.  Geo.  Bell, 
1st  Infantry. 

Strebler  had  been  sent  out  from  the  post  and  island 
of  Leguan  with  the  special  duty  of  hunting  down 
General  Lucban,  and,  after  surmounting  great  diffi- 
culties in  locating  Lucban,  had  surmounted  a great 
many  more  in  reaching  his  hiding  place,  and  in  taking 
Lucban  alive  on  the  high  mountains  in  the  vicinity 
of  Matuguinao.  Strebler  had  with  him  a native  ser- 
geant of  Scouts  named  Patajo,  who  was  given  by  him 

401 


402 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


great  credit  for  shrewdness  and  loyalty  in  the  report 
submitted  by  him  (Strebler)  on  his  return  to  Leguan. 

I read  that  report  with  much  interest.  It  was  one 
of  the  finest  that  I ever  saw,  and  it  was  distinguished 
by  the  plain,  truthful,  modest  description  of  a most 
difficult  and  hazardous  undertaking,  and  for  its 
claiming  nothing  for  the  writer,  wherein  it  differed 
from  some  other  reports  that  I had  read  while  a staff 
officer.  Indeed,  to  fully  understand  and  appreciate 
what  had  been  endured  and  accomplished  by  Strebler 
and  his  men,  the  reader  needed  a previous  eyesight 
acquaintance  with  northern  Samar  and  its  people. 

Very  promptly  General  Wade  was  ordered  to  con- 
vene a Board  of  Officers  to  examine  Lieut.  Strebler 
for  a commission  in  the  regulars. 

This  Board  was  convened  at  Leguan,  and  was  com- 
posed of  officers  stationed  there.  The  War  Depart- 
ment seemed  impatient  to  reward  the  man  who  had 
captured  Lucban,  and  General  Wade  was  asked  by 
cable  from  Manila  the  result  of  the  examination. 
We  passed  the  question  on  to  the  Commanding  Officer 
at  Leguan,  who  replied  that  it  had  been  satisfactory, 
and  that  information  was  sent  back  to  Manila.  The 
result  was,  in  a very  few  days,  Adolf  Strebler  was 
commissioned  as  second  lieutenant  in  the  coast 
artillery'. 

Just  as  had  happened  in  some  other  instances, 
where  a young  officer  had  performed  valuable  services 
in  the  field,  so  it  now  happened  with  Strebler.  He  was 
not  able  to  withstand  peace  conditions,  and  died  a 
civilian  a few  years  later,  on  the  Rio  Grande. 

The  work  of  pacifying  the  islands  had  proceeded  so 
fast  that  finally  the  pendulum  seemed  to  turn  back 
and  look  for  scapegoats,  and,  apparently  found  them 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


403 


in  several  very  efficient  and  capable  officers  who  had 
performed  most  valuable  services,  one  of  them  having 
done  more  than  any  other  man  to  pacify  the  island 
of  Panay,  excepting  General  Hughes  himself.  I 
believed  that  then,  and  I have  not  changed  my  opinion 
of  that  matter  since  then. 

During  the  summer  of  1902  the  cholera  spread  over 
the  islands,  and  Cebu  was  one  of  the  towns  hardest 
hit,  in  spite  of  efforts  to  prevent,  and  to  cure.  Our 
daily  reports  at  Department  Headquarters  kept  us 
informed  as  to  progress  of  the  disease,  and  for  the 
month  of  August  the  number  of  deaths  was  at  least 
30  a day  for  the  city  of  Cebu,  and  undoubtedly  a 
number  of  cases  were  never  reported.  Several  weeks 
were  needed  for  the  disease  mortality  to  reach  that 
height,  for  several  weeks  it  stayed  there,  and  for 
many  more  the  cholera  gradually  lessened,  and 
finally  disappeared. 

In  going  to  and  from  my  office  daily  I frequently 
saw  the  sick  being  carried  to  where  they  could  be 
treated.  They  were  carried  on  the  shoulders  of  two 
men,  enclosed  in  a long  basket  or  box,  which  did  not 
entirely  hide  the  struggles  and  agony  of  the  stricken 
man,  or  woman.  Several  soldiers  died,  but  no  China- 
man was  sick  at  Cebu.  This  was  due  to  the  fact  that 
the  greatest  of  care  could  not  prevent  some  of  our 
men  from  eating  and  drinking  unwisely,  and  China- 
men eat  and  drink  nothing  that  they  themselves 
have  not  cooked.  They  drank  nothing  but  tea,  and 
they  made  their  own  tea.  They  ate  no  uncooked 
fruit,  or  vegetables. 

From  my  quarters  in  barrio  San  Nicolas  I saw  every 
night  at  9 o’clock,  for  weeks  and  weeks,  a procession 
of  young  girls  and  boys,  headed  by  a native  priest, 


404 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


maybe  two,  all  lighted  by  many  candles.  The  girls 
were  all  in  one  group,  and  the  boys  in  another,  and 
separately  the  two  groups  took  up  and  sang  the  saddest 
and  wildest  and  weirdest  songs  that  I ever  listened 
to.  I learned  to  whistle  one  of  the  airs,  but  I could 
not  remember  the  other.  Of  course  the  Church  was 
driving  away  the  cholera,  and  whether  or  not  the 
people  continued  to  die,  the  Church  was  sure  to  be 
right.  “Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servants”  for 
the  living,  and  “Oh,  ye  of  little  faith,”  to  the  drinkers 
of  bad  water  who  knew  no  better,  and  in  all  proba- 
bility the  natives  of  Cebu  have  no  doubt  that  the 
Church  saved  the  truly  devout  from  that  visitation 
of  cholera. 

According  to  my  recollection  about  half  of  the 
natives  sick  with  that  disease  did  not  recover.  Of 
American  sick  of  the  cholera  about  one-third  died,  and 
no  Chinaman  had  the  cholera.  For  several  months 
the  eating  of  uncooked  fruits  and  vegetables  was  for- 
bidden, thus  depriving  us  of  the  delicious  tropical 
fruits  which  are  so  abundant  at  Cebu.  The  Cebu 
mango  is  said  to  be  the  finest  in  the  world,  at  least  I 
know  no  better,  and  the  papaya  of  that  island  has  no 
superior,  and  there  is  no  other  fruit  that  equals  the 
papaya  for  health  giving. 

A banana-looking  stalk,  leaf,  and  sometimes  its 
dwarfed  fruit  resemble  very  much  those  features  of  the 
plant  which  furnishes  such  delicious  fruit.  I am  speak- 
ing of  the  banana’s  cousin  whose  fruit  is  worthless, 
but  whose  fibre  from  the  stalk  furnishes  the  valuable 
and  useful  thread  used  in  the  manufacture  of  the  most 
abundant  native  cloth,  “abaca.”  In  all  my  experience 
in  the  island  I was  not  able  to  distinguish  the  “abaca” 
banana  from  the  kind  which  gives  the  good  fruit  if 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


405 


I could  not  see  the  cluster  of  bananas.  However, 
I believe  that  the  stalk  of  the  best  fruit  bearing 
banana  would,  if  treated  properly,  furnish  equally  good 
fibre  for  the  same  purpose.  After  the  stalk  gets  old 
enough  to  give  the  fruit  it  very  soon  rots,  and  it  is 
doubtful  if  its  fibre  would,  after  yielding  fruit,  be 
good  for  anything  but  rope  making.  The  coarse  and 
old  “abaca”  stalk  furnishes  the  fibre  used  in  the 
manufacture  of  Manila  hemp  rope,  and  younger 
stalks  give  the  more  delicate  fibre  which  is  used  in  the 
making  of  the  cloth,  “abaca.” 

“Jusi”  cloth  is  made  in  the  Philippines,  the  best 
variety  coming  from  the  island  of  Panay,  and  espe- 
cially the  towns  of  Molo,  and  Jaro,  from  a silk  thread 
brought  from  China.  “Pina”  is  made  in  the  islands 
from  the  fibre  of  the  pineapple  plant.  Both  of  those 
cloths  are  very  durable,  and  jusi  makes  a beautiful 
dress  for  special  occasions,  being  for  that  reason 
very  popular  with  our  American  ladies.  Pina  is  more 
rare,  and  is  not  manufactured  in  as  pretty  colors  as 
is  jusi,  but  it  is  a more  durable  cloth.  Abaca  corre- 
sponds to  our  calico  as  regards  abundance  and  price, 
but  it  is  not  so  pretty,  nor  so  cheap,  therefore  a great 
deal  of  our  calico  is  worn  by  the  native  Filipino  women. 

I had  no  opportunity  to  hunt  during  my  first  tour 
of  duty  in  the  Philippines,  but  I saw  several  fine 
specimens  of  game.  I saw  three  kinds  of  quail,  differ- 
ing greatly  in  size,  and  somewhat  in  coloring.  The 
smallest  was  hardly  larger  than  a sparrow,  the  next 
in  size  about  as  big  as  the  small  Mexican  dove  which 
is  abundant  in  southwest  Texas,  also  in  Cuba.  The 
largest  variety  was  fully  as  large  as  any  of  the  several 
varieties  of  quail  seen  in  the  United  States.  The  heads 
and  bills  of  the  Filipino  quail  bend  over  more  than 


406 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


ours  do,  and  the  birds  lacked  that  proud  and  upright 
bearing  that  is  so  distinctive  of  the  American  quail. 
The  meat  of  the  Filipino  quail  is  as  white  and  good 
to  eat  as  could  be  wished.  I saw  also  several  different 
kinds  of  doves,  or  pigeons,  differing  in  color  and  size, 
and  affording  excellent  meat  for  the  table. 

I did  not  serve  in  any  big  snake  section  of  the  is- 
lands, at  least  I saw  and  heard  of  none  where  I 
served,  but  the  islands  have  some  very  large  snakes. 
I saw  monkeys  on  two  occasions,  and  a few  white 
parrots.  Once  or  twice  I saw  ducks  and  plover. 

Poisonous  and  creeping  things,  like  scorpions  and 
centipedes,  were  not  as  abundant  as  I expected. 
Lizards  were  numerous,  and  of  different  sizes  and 
varieties,  some  living  in  our  quarters,  and  others  of 
great  size  living  in  and  near  large  creeks  and  rivers. 
One  night  at  Cebu  I counted  by  lamp  light,  on  the 
walls  and  ceiling,  at  the  same  instant,  nine  harmless 
lizards  who  seemed  to  move  only  when  an  unwary 
fly  came  too  near,  and  then  the  lizard  would  catch 
his  game  almost  every  time. 

I found  the  Chinaman  to  be  the  one  man  indis- 
pensable, because  of  his  industry,  honesty  and  intelli- 
gence. In  my  opinion  he  is  the  best  and  most  honest 
man  in  the  Orient.  When  I entered  the  great  banks 
and  big  steamship  houses  I noticed  that  almost  invari- 
ably a Chinaman  counted  out  the  money.  A China- 
man tailor  would  make  a suit  of  clothes  in  24  hours, 
and,  in  fact,  he  does  not  draw  the  proper  distinction 
between  night  and  day,  when  it  is  a question  of  work. 
If  he  cannot  or  will  not  accept  the  offer  as  first  made 
him,  he  bluntly  tells  you  so,  “No  can  do,  maybeso — ,” 
and  then  he  will  most  likely  suggest  his  own  terms. 
The  following  incident  is  given  as  an  illustration: 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


407 


In  January,  1902,  I drove  up  to  the  biggest  res- 
taurant kept  by  Chinamen  in  Cebu.  I wanted  to  hire 
a Chinese  cook,  being  about  to  move  into  my  quarters 
in  Barrio  San  Nicolas.  My  army  spring  wagon  having 
stopped  in  front  of  the  restaurant  two  Chinamen 
came  out  to  me,  and  the  senior  in  rank  promptly  but 
not  rudely  asked,  “What  you  want?” 

“A  Chinaman  cook,”  I replied. 

“How  much  you  give?”  he  asked. 

“How  much  do  you  want?”  again  I replied. 

“Thirty  dollars  gold  one  month,”  the  Chinaman  said. 

“No,”  I told  him,  “a  thirty  dollar  Chinaman  is 
too  good  a cook  for  me.  I don’t  want  one  who  can 
cook  that  well.  A twenty  dollar  cook  is  good  enough 
for  me.  I’ll  give  twenty  dollars  per  month.” 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  Chinaman  No.  2 spoke  up. 
He  said,  “I  go.” 

I told  him  to  get  in  the  wagon,  and  off  we  went, 
and  that  Chinaman  was  my  faithful  follower,  cook, 
servant,  for  the  rest  of  my  stay  in  Cebu,  and  from 
other  experiences  with  that  people  I believe  that  in- 
stance almost  a typical  one. 

On  my  cook’s  recommendation  I gave  him  authority 
to  get  me  a Chinaman  house  boy,  instead  of  a Filipino, 
believing  that  a ten  dollar  Chinese  boy  would  be  a 
better  investment  than  a three  dollar  Filipino,  at  the 
end  of  the  week.  I also  changed  house  boy  on  the 
recommendation  of  the  cook.  I gave  him  lots  of  liberty, 
also  clear  cut  instructions  as  to  what  I really  required 
of  him,  and  I never  had  occasion  to  correct  him  in 
any  way.  Of  course  my  house  was  not  then  kept  in 
the  tip  top  shape  to  please  a good  housekeeper,  but 
it  didn’t  have  to  be.  However,  I believe  my  man  Lao 
would  have  been  equal  to  any  occasion. 


408 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


While  on  duty  at  General  Wade’s  headquarters  I 
got  to  thinking  of  the  various  instances  where  our  men 
had  been  suddenly  assaulted  by  bolomen,  and  badly 
cut  up  before  our  slow  moving  Americans  could  get 
their  wits  and  rifles  working  fast  enough.  I became 
convinced  that  a shorter,  lighter  rifle  would  better 
answer  the  purpose,  also  a bayonet  which  at  the  same 
time  could  be  used  as  a cutting  weapon  good  enough 
to  match  the  native’s  bolo,  and  the  result  of  all  my 
thinking  was  that  I forwarded,  through  military 
channels,  to  the  Adjutant  General  of  the  Army,  a 
letter  in  which  I recommended  that  the  short  cavalry 
carbine  be  issued  to  all  our  troops  serving  in  the 
Philippines,  also  a bolo  bayonet.  My  reasons  were 
that  our  men  were  then  weak  from  former  sickness, 
and  were  naturally  slow  as  compared  with  the  Fili- 
pino, and  the  rifle  was  too  heavy  for  quick  handling, 
also  too  long. 

I further  recommended  that  the  bolo  bayonet  have 
a blade  18  or  20  inches  long,  and  shaped  like  the 
Japanese  blade.  Before  forwarding  my  letter  General 
Wade  referred  it,  or  copies  of  it,  for  remark,  to  all  his 
brigade,  regimental  and  battalion  commanders,  and 
all,  except  one  brigade  and  one  regimental  commander, 
backed  up  my  recommendations.  It  would  have  been 
far  better  and  more  appropriate  to  have  obtained  ex- 
pressions of  opinion  on  such  subjects  from  company 
and  small  detachment  commanders,  officers  who  had 
been  brought  face  to  face  with  the  naked  bolo  now 
and  then,  and  therefore  were  better  equipped  to  pass 
on  the  question  raised  in  my  letter. 

I had  hardly  moved  into  my  rented  quarters  in 
Cebu  when  I found  that  I would  not  have  to  live 
alone.  Capt.  J.  F.  Madden,  Adjutant  29th  Infantry, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


409 


requested  me  to  take  him  in  with  me,  and  I was  glad 
to  do  so.  The  Quartermaster  paid  my  commutation 
of  quarters,  $48  per  month,  and  Capt.  Madden  gave 
the  remaining  $2.  I did  not  want  any  equal  partner, 
and  that  is  why  Madden  did  not  pay  more  of  the  rent. 
We  got  along  very  smoothly  together. 

Our  Chinaman  cook,  Lao,  gave  perfect  satisfaction. 
He  used  to  hunt  up  good  things  to  cook  for  us.  Among 
the  dishes  he  prepared  for  us  was  one  of  rice  birds  on 
toast.  The  rice  birds  were  canned,  and  already  cooked, 
and  only  needed  warming  over  again  and  preparing 
with  toasted  bread.  The  little  birds  were  so  small, 
and  were  prepared  in  such  manner,  that  we  could 
disregard  bones  when  eating.  It  was  a fine  dish,  and 
the  next  time  I visited  Cebu  I did  not  forget  the 
rice  birds. 

One  day,  about  10.30  a.m.  Lao  appeared  at  my 
office,  greatly  excited.  He  told  me  that  our  house 
boy,  another  Chinaman,  was  dead,  having  been  shot 
while  in  my  room.  We  hurried  to  my  quarters,  and 
to  my  room,  where  we  found  the  Chinaman  lying  on 
the  floor,  dead,  with  a bullet  hole  showing  entrance  in 
the  abdomen  and  evidently  ranging  upward.  My  cal. 
38  Browning-Colt  automatic  pistol  was  on  the  floor 
close  to  him,  and  the  sheets  of  my  bed  were  also  on  the 
floor  with  the  pillow.  Because  of  the  ease  with  which 
any  one  could  enter  my  house,  and  because  of  where 
I was  I kept  my  pistol  under  my  pillow  at  night  all 
the  time,  and  the  Chinaman  had  been  making  up  that 
bed,  and  he  knew  perfectly  well  that  the  pistol  was 
there,  because  of  having  seen  it  there  many  a time. 

I remembered  my  being  pulled  out  of  bed  that 
morning  in  January,  1878,  at  Fort  Clark,  Texas,  and 
being  shot  by  my  own  pistol,  and  that  made  me  exam- 


410 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


ine  well  the  floor  of  my  bedroom  for  indentations, 
such  as  might  have  been  made  by  the  pistol’s  hammer. 
I did  not  have  to  look  long  to  find  one  which  had 
evidently  been  caused  by  the  hammer  when  the  pistol 
struck  the  floor.  One  cartridge  shell  was  empty. 

Evidently  the  Chinaman  was  in  a hurry,  or  from 
some  other  cause  was  not  careful  in  handling  the 
bedding,  and  thoughtlessly  jerked  with  much  force, 
the  sheets,  and  the  pillow  with  pistol  under  it,  out 
onto  the  floor  without  separating  them. 

I was  very  sorry,  and  I gave  Lao  $30  to  be  used  in 
burying  the  dead  man.  I believe  that  the  remains 
were  sent  back  to  China. 

About  the  middle  of  August  I was  ordered  back  to 
God’s  Country,  and,  fortunately,  I was  offered  a trip 
to  Manila  by  the  Division  Commander  General 
Adna  R.  Chaffee,  who  had  stopped  at  Cebu  and  was 
going  to  leave  in  two  or  three  hours.  I needed  no 
longer  than  that  for  preparation  to  return  to  the 
United  States.  The  trip  to  Manila  on  Gen.  Chaffee’s 
boat  was  very  pleasant.  We  stopped  over  a few  hours 
at  Batangas  to  see  Gen.  J.  Franklin  Bell  who  set 
before  us  some  real  frosted  mint  julip. 

I stopped  in  Manila  several  days,  being  the  guest 
of  my  classmate  Glenn,  who  had  been  with  me  at 
Ilo  Ho  under  General  Hughes. 

One  of  Glenn’s  first  remarks  was  to  propose  to  me 
to  go  and  see  the  sample  bolo  bayonet  which  our 
Ordnance  Officer  there  had  prepared.  We  went  and 
I promptly  gave  my  opinion  that  the  sample  shown 
me  was  impossible,  for  the  purpose  intended,  being 
too  thick,  too  heavy,  too  unwieldy,  too  much  like  a 
cleaver.  I had  a sword  cane  which  I had  brought  from 
Japan,  and  I gave  it  to  Glenn  and  requested  him  to 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


411 


let  the  cane  blade  be  at  the  service  of  the  Ordnance 
Department  whenever  desired  by  them. 

Within  a year  it  was  reported  in  the  papers  that 
the  Ordnance  Department  were  experimenting  with  a 
shorter  and  lighter  rifle,  and  in  another  year  or  so 
our  present  short  rifle,  also  our  knife  bayonet,  were 
issued  to  the  Army.  I have  no  doubt  whatever  that 
my  letter  had  something  to  do  with  that  change. 

After  a few  days  in  Manila  my  ship,  the  U.  S. 
Transport  Sherman,  took  aboard  passengers  and  then 
went  down  to  Mariveles  to  be  fumigated,  because  of 
cholera  which  still  lingered  in  nearly  all  the  islands. 
We  were  to  remain  at  Mariveles  five  days  in  quaran- 
tine for  fumigation,  but  on  the  third  or  fourth  day  a 
case  of  cholera  broke  out,  with  fatal  results,  so  that 
we  stayed  on  five  days  from  that  death,  and  received 
another  fumigation. 

On  the  way  to  Nagasaki  several  others  died  from 
cholera,  and  on  arrival  there  we  unloaded  on  the 
Japanese  a number  of  sick  and  suspected  cases.  We 
did  not  enter  the  beautiful  harbor,  but  we  anchored 
outside  the  narrow  neck,  and  there  we  were  quaran- 
tined by  the  Japanese  for  five  days  and  at  the  end 
of  that  time  our  own  ship’s  officers  kept  the  Sherman 
in  quarantine  another  five  days,  with  the  hope  that 
on  arrival  at  San  Francisco  no  more  quarantine  would 
be  given  us. 

We  sailed  eastward  along  parallel  42,  and  finally 
entered  the  Golden  Gate  and  we  learned  that  we 
must  go  to  Angel  Island  and  remain  there  five  days  in 
quarantine  and  once  more  be  fumigated.  We  landed 
October  14,  1902,  at  San  Francisco,  and  all  our  quar- 
antining had  made  us  feel  that  our  own  people  did 
not  wish  to  see  us  after  our  long  service  in  the  far 


412 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


eastern  tropics.  Between  Nagasaki  and  San  Francisco 
Major  C.  H.  Bonesteel  had  died,  and  soon  after  our 
arrival  Lieut.  Col.  Morrison,  J.  A.  Dept.,  died,  but 
cholera  had  nothing  to  do  with  either  case. 

While  at  the  quarantine  station  on  Angel  Island 
I learned  that  I had  been  assigned  to  duty  with 
General  Hughes,  at  San  Francisco,  which  satisfied  me 
perfectly,  only  I wanted  to  see  my  two  boys  again, 
after  my  three  years’  absence,  and  I therefore  requested 
two  months’  leave  of  absence  very  soon  after  landing. 
Meanwhile  I performed  the  duties  of  Department 
Adjutant  General  for  General  Hughes,  and  for  several 
weeks  I lived  in  his  house  on  Black  Point  with  him. 
He  treated  me  like  a dearly  loved  son  without  drop- 
ping entirely  the  necessary  restraints  which  are  im- 
posed by  military  etiquette  and  discipline. 

After  an  early  breakfast  we  walked  together  to  the 
old  Phelan  Building,  about  two  and  a half  miles.  I 
took  my  lunch  at  the  old  Bohemian  Club,  and  I 
don’t  know  where  the  General  got  his.  He  was  so 
abstemious  in  his  habits  that  I doubt  if  he  ate  any- 
thing at  mid-day.  About  5 p.m.  we  started  back  to 
Black  Point,  walking  as  before,  and  in  this  manner 
getting  some  much  needed  exercise.  General  Hughes 
was  an  excellent  walker,  although  not  at  all  athletic. 
His  frame  was  very  small,  and  straight  and  slender, 
and  he  frequently  caressed  one  hip  with  his  hand. 
This  hip  he  hurt  in  Samar  after  I left  him  there, 
while  he  was  coming  down  the  mountains  from  a visit 
to  Mount  Matuguinao.  He  said  that  it  served  him 
right  for  trying  to  imitate  a wild  goat  in  jumping 
from  crag  to  crag  at  his  time  of  life. 

While  I was  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  duty  at 
San  Francisco,  and  especially  because  of  my  chief,  on 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


413 


two  occasions  the  General’s  Aide,  Capt.  Ralph  Van 
Deman,  remarked  to  me,  “Now,  you  mustn’t  get 
some  other  job  while  you  are  in  the  East.  We  want 
you  back  here.”  To  this  my  reply  was,  “Don’t  be 
afraid.  I am  satisfied  with  my  present  duties.” 

Before  starting  on  leave  I wrote  letters  to  my 
mother,  all  my  brothers,  and  to  my  sister,  telling  them 
all  that  I would  be  with  my  mother  on  a certain  date, 
and  I was  rewarded  by  finding  them  all  there,  at 
Eufaula,  Oklahoma,  where  my  mother  was  living 
with  my  brother  Tom  and  his  family.  This  was  the 
last  time  that  my  good  mother  had  all  her  surviving 
children  with  her  at  the  same  time.  I had  with  me 
enough  souvenirs  of  my  service  in  the  Philippines  to 
give  each  of  them  something.  Chiefly,  I enjoyed 
seeing  my  mother  again. 

After  several  days  with  my  mother  I went  on,  and 
stopped  a day  or  two  in  New  Orleans,  where  I saw 
once  more  John  C.  Febiger,  also  my  cousins  Kate  and 
Grace  Shepherd.  Mr.  Febiger  showed  me  the  last 
copy  of  the  Army  and  Navy  Journal,  which  contained 
a copy  of  the  order  changing  my  station  to  Governor’s 
Island,  New  York  Harbor,  Headquarters,  Department 
of  the  East.  I was  to  be  assistant  to  the  Adjutant 
General  of  the  Department. 

Then  I could  not  help  remembering  Capt.  Van 
Deman’s  remark,  and  I promptly  wrote  to  him  dis- 
claiming all  connection  with  the  order. 

On  arrival  at  Governor’s  Island  I learned  from  my 
classmate  Tom  Barry,  then  Adjutant  General  of  the 
Department,  that  he  had  asked  for  me  as  his  assistant. 
My  former  captain,  Henry  C.  Corbin,  at  that  time 
Adjutant  General  of  the  Army,  wrote  and  told  me 
that  he  had  remembered  that  my  boys  were  in 


414 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Lancaster,  Pa.,  and  that  he  wanted  me  to  have  the 
opportunity  of  being  near  them.  I was  very  grateful 
to  both  my  friends,  and  glad  too,  that  they  had  the 
power  to  help  me. 

Even  then,  the  winter  of  1902-3,  the  most  important 
army  post  and  most  important  headquarters  outside 
of  Washington  had  no  electric  lights  in  officers’  quar- 
ters. They  said  that  even  General  Hancock  had  not 
been  able  to  get  them.  General  Chaffee  soon  obtained 
them.  I started  Barry  after  them  by  remarking  about 
the  queerness  of  their  absence,  and  I have  no  doubt 
that  he  got  his  chief  interested.  General  Chaffee  was 
Department  Commander,  and  I found  my  duties  as 
Barry’s  assistant  very  pleasant  and  instructive.  Barry 
was  the  best  “paper  man”  that  I ever  worked  with, 
equal  to  every  occasion. 

During  the  winter  of  1902-3  Congress  passed  the 
Act  authorizing  the  formation  of  the  General  Staff 
of  the  Army,  a very  great  advance  in  progress.  Nat- 
urally every  ambitious  officer  desired  a detail  in  the 
General  Staff,  and  I applied  for  it  through  military 
channels,  forwarding  with  my  application  a copy  of 
a letter  from  General  Hughes  recommending  me  for 
the  position.  The  entire  letter  is  entered  here  because 
I am  prouder  of  it  than  of  any  other  recommendation 
that  I ever  received. 

“Headquarters  Department  of  California, 
Office  of  the  Commanding  General, 

San  Francisco,  Cal.,  March  30,  1903. 

The  Adjutant  General  of  the  Army, 

Washington,  D.  C. 

Sir: 

I desire  to  invite  your  special  attention  to  the  fitness 
of  Major  C.  J.  Crane,  U.  S.  Infantry,  for  the  duties 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


415 


it  is  thought  will  fall  to  the  members  of  the  General 
Staff.  In  this  case  I speak  from  actual  experience. 

As  Lieutenant  Colonel,  with  an  independent 
command  in  the  field,  Major  Crane  established  an 
enviable  reputation.  He  was  afterwards  assigned  as 
Adjutant  General  of  the  Department  of  the  Visayas, 
and  he  proved  himself  quite  efficient  in  that  position, 
and  was  in  charge  of  the  main  office  while  the  Depart- 
ment Commander  was  absent  in  the  field  for  six 
months. 

This  was  a good  test  of  his  preparedness  to  assume 
responsibilities  that  would  have  caused  hesitation  in 
a large  majority  of  men. 

Very  Respectfully, 

(Signed)  R.  P.  Hughes,  U.  S.  A. 


Other  officers  must  have  had  more  powerful  recom- 
mendations than  mine,  for  mine,  of  which  I have 
always  been  so  proud,  produced  no  visible  results. 
I continued  to  be  Barry’s  assistant. 

I had  a nice  set  of  quarters  on  Governor’s  Island, 
in  the  same  building  with  “Jack  Harrison”  and  his 
fine  family.  I used  to  go  almost  every  Saturday  to 
Lancaster,  Pa.,  to  see  my  boys,  and  when  their  vaca- 
tion from  school  had  arrived  I had  them  come  up 
and  live  with  me,  which  gave  me  better  opportunity 
to  resume  my  supervision  of  their  education  and 
general  bringing  up.  We  had,  on  Governor’s  Island, 
fine  tennis  courts  and  golf  courses,  and  I bought 
the  necessary  implements  for  playing  those  games, 
and  I instructed  my  boys  to  go  out  and  play,  and 
play  hard.  I took  them  with  me  to  see  the  animals  at 
the  Bronx,  and  all  manner  of  fish  down  near  the 
Battery.  Their  first  theater  entertainment  was  the 
finest  they  ever  had.  We  went  to  see  “Robin  Hood” 
played  by  Barnaby  and  his  crowd  of  excellent  artists 


416 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


of  that  time,  “The  Boston  Ideals,”  I believe.  We 
went  together  to  see  many  other  plays  and  light 
operas,  and  sometimes  we  went  over  to  see  our  cousins, 
the  Baynes,  at  Nutley,  N.  J. 

Only  once  or  twice  I had  to  put  on  side  arms  and 
leave  the  Island.  On  one  of  those  occasions  we  saw 
Mrs.  U.  S.  Grant’s  remains  deposited  in  the  same  big 
tomb  which  already  contained  those  of  her  great 
husband,  at  Riverside,  N.  Y.  The  other  time  we  were 
at  the  unveiling  of  the  statue  of  General  W.  T.  Sher- 
man, one  of  our  Country’s  greatest  men,  no  matter 
from  what  viewpoint  he  should  be  examined.  On  that 
occasion  we  attended  a big  mid-day  banquet  some- 
where near  Central  Park,  and  I was  deeply  interested 
to  see  how  Chauncey  Depew  and  other  noted  after- 
dinner  talkers  would  eat,  drink,  talk,  or,  perhaps  ab- 
stain from  doing  either.  Elihu  Root,  then  Secretary 
of  War,  beat  Chauncey  Depew  beyond  comparison 
as  an  after-dinner  talker.  What  he  said  was  bet- 
ter delivered,  and  contained  lots  more  that  was 
worth  remembering.  Many  men  have  expressed  the 
opinion  that  Elihu  Root  was  too  brainy  a man  ever 
to  be  our  president,  like  Henry  Clay  and  James  G. 
Blaine. 

I was  at  Governor’s  Island  only  about  nine  months, 
and  I always  felt  that  some  mistake  had  been  made 
in  getting  me  so  far  east.  Indeed,  one  day  some 
officer  who  had  seen  me  in  many  different  places,  all 
west  of  the  Mississippi,  w'alked  into  my  office,  and 
could  not  keep  back  his  surprised  speech  on  seeing  me 
there,  “W’hat!  You  here!  How  did  you  get  so  far 
east?” 

But  I did  not  remind  the  W7ar  Department  of  the 
“mistake,”  and  continued  to  enjoy  every  day  of  my 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


417 


stay  on  Governor’s  Island.  I was  promoted  to 
Lieutenant  Colonel  of  regulars  on  August  21,  1903, 
and  about  the  same  time  the  detailed  colonel  of  the 
Porto  Rico  regiment  was  promoted  and  relieved  from 
duty  in  Porto  Rico.  I was  then  given  command  of 
the  District,  Island  and  Regiment  of  Porto  Rico 
after  nine  months  at  Governor’s  Island,  part  of  which 
period  I belonged  to  the  8th  Infantry,  and  all  of  which 
time  I assisted  Barry. 

On  September  3,  1903,  I started  for  San  Juan, 
Porto  Rico,  and  after  a few  weeks  I had  my  boys 
come  on  and  join  me.  I promptly  put  them  in  the 
public  school  at  San  Juan.  I relieved  Col.  James 
Buchanan,  who  then  proceeded  to  join  and  command 
the  regiment  which  I had  belonged  to  for  so  long  a 
time,  the  24th  Infantry. 

But,  I must  first  give  a little  more  of  my  life  at 
Governor’s  Island.  While  on  duty  there  I was  given 
a pleasant  surprise  in  seeing  my  old  time  Adjutant  at 
Lipa,  Lieut.  W.  G.  Doane,  who  was  detailed  as 
assistant  to  the  Department  Judge  Advocate.  On 
joining,  Doane  was  given  station  in  New  York  City, 
and  was  therefore  entitled  to  commutation  of  quar- 
ters, but  he  could  find  no  lodging  for  the  amount  of 
his  commutation  of  quarters.  He  was  very  glad  to 
accept  my  offer  to  share  my  quarters  and  table  with 
him. 

Doane  was  the  son  of  a prominent  clergyman  in 
Nebraska,  and  had  been  the  Adjutant  of  W.  J. 
Bryan’s  regiment  from  that  state  during  the  Spanish 
War. 

He  was  one  of  the  most  attractive  men  that  I ever 
saw,  and  living  in  the  same  house  with  him  and  eating 
daily  with  him  did  not  diminish  his  charm.  He 


418 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


reminded  me  of  what  I had  read  of  “Admirable 
Critchton,”  being  better  than  average  in  so  many 
things.  Men  liked  Doane  for  his  many  manly  quali- 
ties and  accomplishments,  and  women  liked  him 
because  of  his  good  looks,  real  politeness  and  graceful 
bearing.  Old  ladies  liked  him  because  he  was  so 
polite  and  kind  in  helping  them  with  their  bundles. 
May  he  live  long  and  prosper! 

My  quarters  at  San  Juan  were  in  the  “Casa 
Blanca,”  the  finest  and  pleasantest  I ever  had.  At 
that  time  there  still  remained  in  San  Juan  parts  of  the 
various  supplies  which  had  been  sent  to  Porto  Rico 
when  the  island  was  garrisoned  by  thousands  of 
troops,  consequently  we  were  well  supplied.  Trans- 
portation, lumber  and  other  material,  also  quarter- 
masters’ employees,  all  were  at  San  Juan  out  of  all 
proportion  to  the  real  needs  of  the  small  number  of 
troops  I found  on  the  island.  But  it  made  us  all  the 
more  comfortable  to  have  all  those  “left  over”  things 
from  other  garrisons. 

Five  companies  of  the  Porto  Rico  Regiment  and 
two  companies  of  Coast  Artillery  were  located  at 
San  Juan,  and  three  companies  of  the  Porto  Ricans 
were  stationed  at  Henry  Barracks,  Cayey,  P.  R.  When 
I landed,  the  work  of  abandoning  our  post  at  Ponce 
was  going  on,  and  I soon  got  an  inkling  as  to  what  I 
was  to  expect  from  the  Insular  Government  of  Porto 
Rico.  The  buildings  at  Ponce  were  ordered  to  be 
turned  over  to  the  Governor.  This  we  interpreted  to 
mean  the  original  masonry  barracks  which  ihe 
Americans  had  found  there,  and  we  therefore  had  no 
hesitation  in  beginning  the  tearing  down  of  temporary 
buildings  which  we,  ourselves,  had  added  to  the 
Ponce  Barracks. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


419 


The  Governor  of  Porto  Rico  had  his  insular  police 
take  possession  of  all  the  garrison  buildings  at  Ponce, 
and  then  he  informed  our  working  parties  there  that 
no  more  removal  of  material  would  be  permitted.  I 
had  already  been  informed  of  instances  where  the 
Insular  Government  desired  the  possession  of  Army 
property,  and,  in  order  to  settle  the  question,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  get  for  myself  some  general  instruc- 
tions for  my  future  guidance  in  similar  cases,  I wrote 
to  Washington.  After  briefly  describing  what  had 
happened  at  Ponce,  and  stating  my  belief  that  similar 
troubles  might  easily  arise  in  the  future,  I requested 
some  general  instructions  for  my  future  guidance, 
ending  my  letter  as  follows:  “In  the  absence  of  any 
instructions  whatever,  I shall  conceive  it  to  be  my 
duty  to  hold  fast  to  all  Army  property  on  this  island, 
and  to  give  up  nothing  without  the  orders  of  higher 
authority.” 

I never  received  any  reply  to  that  letter,  but  I am 
sure  that  it  was  received,  and  that  the  Adjutant 
General’s  Department  played  “safe”  and  expressed 
no  opinion.  My  letter  must  have  said  exactly  what 
the  War  Department  wished  me  to  say,  but,  by  re- 
fraining from  answering  my  letter  the  Department 
was  left  at  liberty  in  the  future.  But,  my  request  was 
a reasonable  one,  under  the  circumstances,  especially 
under  the  conditions  existing  at  San  Juan  during  my 
incumbency  in  office  there.  The  Governor  in  office 
when  I arrived  at  San  Juan  had  been  a schoolmate, 
and  perhaps  a classmate  of  the  then  Secretary  of 
War,  W.  H.  Taft.  I served  in  the  Philippines  more 
than  a year  while  Mr.  Taft  was  Governor  General  of 
the  Islands. 

Some  months  after  my  arrival  at  San  Juan  Samuel 


420 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Gompers  came  to  organize  labor  in  Porto  Rico,  and 
he  did  so,  with  the  usual  results,  trouble  and  blood- 
shed. The  police  of  the  island  were  at  that  time  a part 
of  the  insular  government,  and  had  been  organized  as 
an  incomplete  regiment.  The  longshoremen  soon  went 
on  a strike,  and  the  draymen  joined  them,  and  in  a 
few  days  policemen  were  needed  with  each  volunteer 
dray,  and  finally  the  strikers  began  to  disarm  the 
police  guards  of  drays,  and  to  dump  out  the  con- 
tents, anywhere. 

Late  one  afternoon  firing  was  heard  not  far  from 
my  barracks.  The  police  and  strikers  were  fighting. 
One  or  two  people  were  hit,  not  actually  strikers  but 
their  friends  and  helpers. 

My  own  enlisted  men  of  the  Porto  Rico  Regiment 
were  believed  to  be  friendly  to  the  strikers,  because  of 
their  jealousy  of  the  police.  I hastened  to  let  all  know 
how  the  Porto  Rico  Regiment  was  going  to  stand,  as 
between  policemen  and  strikers.  Immediately  I wrote 
out  a carefully  worded  order  announcing  that,  the 
strikers,  by  having  resorted  to  violence,  had  put 
themselves  outside  of  the  pale  of  the  law,  that  the 
police  were  the  champions  of  the  law,  and  that,  as  soon 
as  the  Governor  should  request  assistance  from  us  we 
would  promptly  take  our  places  beside  the  police, 
and  help  to  put  down  the  trouble  then  existing. 

I had  the  order  published  to  each  company  at 
retreat,  and  I furnished  copies  to  the  daily  newspapers 
with  the  request  that  the  following  day’s  issue  would 
surely  contain  the  order,  in  full.  The  papers  were 
glad  to  comply  with  my  request,  and  there  was  no 
more  fighting,  or  offer  of  violence  that  came  to  my 
hearing.  The  strike  was  ended.  The  police  most 
likely  believed  that  they  had  done  it,  but  I thought 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


421 


that  my  order  was  chiefly  responsible  for  the  sudden 
collapse  of  the  strike.  I remember  nothing  like  an 
expression  from  the  Governor  of  Porto  Rico,  thank- 
ing me. 

When  Theodore  Roosevelt  was  about  to  be  inaugu- 
rated President  of  the  United  States  I was  directed  to 
send  the  Band  and  one  battalion  of  the  Porto  Rico 
Regiment  to  Washington,  to  take  part  in  the  cere- 
monies of  the  4th  of  March.  I selected  Major  T.  W. 
Griffith  to  command  the  troops  sent.  The  ship  chosen 
by  the  Quartermaster’s  Department  and  sent  to  San 
Juan  for  our  men  was  too  small  for  the  transporta- 
tion of  so  many  men,  but  by  much  personal  super- 
vision and  correction,  the  boat  was  finally  made 
ready,  the  space  for  freight  having  been  prepared  for 
soldiers’  bunks. 

The  “Arcadia”  was  to  sail  at  8,  or  8.30  a.m.  on 
March  2nd,  allowing  just  enough  time  to  put  the  ship 
at  the  wharf  in  Washington  by  10  p.m.,  March  3rd. 
Early  on  the  morning  of  the  2nd  I went  down  to  the 
dock,  and  Mr.  Latimer,  the  agent  of  the  ship’s  com- 
pany, told  me  that  the  boat  was  all  ready,  so  I ordered 
the  troops  put  aboard  promptly.  They  were  then 
standing  on  the  dock.  While  this  was  being  done 
Mr.  Latimer  returned  from  the  office  of  the  Captain 
of  the  Port  and  told  me  that  the  Arcadia  could  not 
get  clearance  papers,  because  of  her  small  tonnage 
and  big  passenger  list.  Immediately  the  two  of  us 
went  to  see  the  Captain  of  the  Port,  for  the  question 
was  a new  one  to  me. 

We  were  informed  that  the  regulations  required 
such  a tonnage  for  so  many  men,  in  every  boat  pre- 
pared as  a passenger  carrier,  and  that  the  Arcadia  did 
not  have  it.  I was  also  informed  that  during  the  pre- 


422 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


ceding  two  or  three  days  Washington  had  been  com- 
municated with,  and  the  only  instructions  received 
were  to  adhere  to  the  regulations,  strictly.  It  looked 
very  much  like  a failure  to  get  my  Porto  Ricans  at 
Washington  in  time  to  participate  in  “Teddy’s” 
inauguration.  It  was  the  fault  of  the  quartermaster 
who  had  hired  the  Arcadia  without  fully  investigating 
conditions. 

The  Captain  of  the  Port  finally  said,  “Now,  if  the 
Arcadia  were  an  Army  transport  it  would  be  different. 
I would  not  have  a word  to  say.”  I looked  at  Mr. 
Latimer,  and  he  looked  at  me.  Then  I asked,  “Mr. 
Latimer,  will  you  let  me  have  this  boat  Arcadia  for 
use  as  an  Army  transport  for  this  trip  only?”  He 
promptly  replied  in  the  affirmative,  the  Captain  of 
the  Port  stated  that  he  had  nothing  more  to  say, 
Mr.  Latimer  and  I hurried  back  to  the  Arcadia,  and 
in  ten  minutes  more  the  ship  began  moving  away 
from  the  dock.  I heard  about  a week  later  that  the 
March  3rd  issue  of  the  New  York  Sun  had  quite  an 
interesting  article  about  piracy  in  Porto  Rico,  and 
telling  of  the  arrangement  to  get  the  Arcadia  off. 

The  Porto  Rico  Battalion  and  Band  assisted  at 
President  Roosevelt’s  inauguration,  with  no  time  to 
spare.  After  a month  or  two  Mr.  Latimer  told  me 
that  the  Arcadia  had  been  fined  some  huge  amount 
for  her  share  of  the  inauguration.  I advised  him  to 
get  his  company  to  take  it  up  with  the  Army,  the 
War  Department  at  Washington,  authorizing  him  to 
describe  fully  and  exactly  all  the  circumstances,  in- 
cluding my  taking  the  boat  as  an  Army  transport  for 
that  trip  only.  Then  I prepared,  and  kept  for  many 
months,  a full  and  accurate  account  of  the  entire 
transaction,  for  future  reference,  but  the  War  Depart- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


423 


ment  never  asked  me  for  any  explanation  whatever. 
Evidently  they  were  glad  that  I had  done  it,  but  they 
could  not  openly  approve  my  action. 

One  of  the  forts  at  San  Juan  was  designated  in  old 
orders  as  a saluting  station,  and  the  coast  artillerymen 
quartered  in  that  fort  had  to  return  all  the  salutes 
given  by  visiting  warships.  Some  time  in  1904,  the 
two  companies  of  coast  artillery  were  ordered  back 
to  the  United  States,  leaving  in  the  old  forts  several 
7-inch  siege  guns,  and  putting  it  up  to  me  to  improvise 
a saluting  squad  out  of  my  Porto  Rican  infantrymen. 
The  ship  with  the  departing  artillery  sailed  in  the 
morning,  and  a little  after  mid-day  a foreign  warship, 
apparently  the  German  “Panther,”  was  sighted, 
coming  towards  the  entrace  to  the  harbor.  I tele- 
phoned immediately  to  Lieutenant  Harding,  an  ex- 
artilleryman, to  instantly  get  a squad,  go  to  those 
guns,  improvise  drill  instructions  and  begin  drilling, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  return  the  Panther’s  salute. 

I also  made  arrangements  with  our  navy  people  to 
return  the  salute  in  case  my  Porto  Ricans  could  not 
get  ready  in  time.  The  Panther  passed  on  across  the 
harbor  that  time,  and  returned  later,  when  her  salute 
was  properly  returned  by  my  Porto  Ricans.  But, 
Lieut.  Harding  always  insisted  that  he  had  his  squad 
ready  to  answer  the  Panther’s  salute  if  she  had  come 
in,  on  that  first  visit. 

With  the  incoming  administration,  a continuation 
of  Mr.  Roosevelt  in  office,  we  received  a new  Governor 
of  Porto  Rico,  a gentleman  who  had  been  closely  con- 
nected with  Mr.  Taft  in  the  Philippines.  At  that 
time  the  office  of  governor  of  Porto  Rico  was  one  of 
the  pleasantest  and  most  lucrative  in  the  gift  of  the 
President,  carrying  with  it  a salary  of  twenty  thousand 


424 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


dollars.  Either  eight  or  twelve  thousand  dollars  of 
the  governor’s  salary  came  from  the  general  govern- 
ment, and  the  other  amount  was  appropriated  an- 
nually by  the  government  of  Porto  Rico.  In  addition, 
a fine,  big  house  called  “The  Palace”  in  town,  and 
a beautiful,  but  decayed  country  house  seven  miles 
out  of  town,  fell  to  the  lot  of  the  governor.  I believe 
that  the  Porto  Rican  Government  has  cut  off  its  share 
of  the  Governor’s  salary. 

The  visits  of  warships  became  very  interesting.  As 
soon  as  the  ship  was  safely  at  anchor  I would  send  my 
adjutant  to  call  on  the  ship’s  commander  and  leave 
our  cards.  In  many  instances,  while  my  adjutant 
was  gone  on  that  duty,  the  corresponding  officer  from 
the  ship’s  captain  appeared  at  my  office,  or  at  my 
quarters,  and  after  a very  short  visit,  left  his  card  and 
that  of  his  captain.  It  so  happened  that  no  foreign 
ship’s  captain  was  my  senior  in  rank,  and,  therefore, 
the  navy  man  paid  me  the  first  official  visit,  on  which 
occasion  I offered  my  guests  most  excellent  mint 
julep,  using  the  mint  left  growing  in  the  yard  at 
“Casa  Blanca”  by  my  predecessor,  Col.  James 
Buchanan.  When  I returned  the  call  on  the  day 
following,  taking  my  adjutant  with  me,  the  other 
fellow  brought  out  his  best  drink. 

The  colored  commander  of  the  “Independencia,” 
the  entire  fleet  of  San  Domingo,  had  nothing  but  hot 
beer  to  give  us,  and  we  drank  it  with  him,  but  the 
Duke  D’Abruzzi,  the  Italian  Prince,  gave  us  some 
fine  champagne,  and  so  did  one  or  two  others,  French- 
men, I believe. 

When  Lieut.  Moreno,  my  adjutant,  returned  from 
his  visit  to  the  Duke’s  ship  where  he  had  left  our  cards, 
he  did  not  know  that  he  had  called  on  a prince  of  royal 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


425 


blood,  and  when,  the  same  morning,  the  Duke’s 
representative  left  with  me  his  own  and  his  captain’s 
card,  I did  not  examine  the  two  pieces  of  pasteboard 
paper,  therefore,  when  the  Italian  captain  and  his 
aide  came  next  day  to  call  on  me  I had  no  idea  as  to 
whom  I was  entertaining,  and  I have  always  been 
glad  of  it,  for  it  enabled  me  to  treat  those  guests  just 
as  I treated  the  others  and  with  the  same  ease. 

When  our  Italian  guests  came,  my  colored  boy 
Charles,  a Porto  Rican,  who  should  serve  our  Presi- 
dent, counted  noses  as  he  peeped  in,  and  in  a mar- 
vellously short  time  he  brought  in  three  glasses  of 
delicious,  frosted  mint  julep.  As  Charles  entered  the 
room  he  found  the  aide  nearest  to  him  and  wearing 
the  most  gold  on  his  uniform,  so  he  stepped  up  to 
that  youngster  and  offered  him  the  first  glass,  which 
almost  scared  the  young  Italian  speechless.  The 
young  fellow  nervously  made  some  motion,  or  gesture, 
indicating  that  the  drinks  should  go  first  to  his  com- 
panion, and  Charles  quickly  took  the  hint. 

The  Italian  Prince  was  an  exceedingly  interesting 
man,  and  looked  like  some  blond  and  blue  eyed 
Englishman,  or  German,  and  his  English  was 
perfect. 

Next  day  I returned  his  call  with  my  adjutant,  and 
we  had  fine  champagne  aboard  his  small  cruiser.  I 
still  had  no  idea  that  we  had  so  distinguished  a 
foreigner  with  us,  and  that  afternoon,  while  driving 
out  to  the  Country  Club  I halted  my  official  carriage 
and  picked  up  the  same  two  Italians,  inviting  them 
to  go  to  the  club  with  me.  This  they  were  glad  to  do, 
for  they  were  then  on  their  way  to  that  club  on  some 
other  man’s  invitation.  Entering  the  club  I intro- 
duced them  to  other  people  as  “Our  friend,  the  Cap- 


426 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


tain  of  the  Italian  cruiser,”  and  “Our  friend,  the  aide 
de  camp  to  the  Captain  of  the  Italian  cruiser.”  I 
believe  I learned  the  next  day  who  my  Italian  captain 
was,  and  I was  glad  that  I did  not  know  it  before. 
He  was  a fine  fellow,  far  better  than  most  princes  are 
supposed  to  be. 

Soon  after  my  arrival  at  San  Juan  I had  to  dismount 
the  two  mounted  companies  of  the  Porto  Rico  Regi- 
ment, then  stationed  at  Henry  Barracks,  Cayey,  P.  R. 
At  the  auction  sale  of  the  horses  and  saddle  outfits 
I bought  two  good  ponies  and  saddles,  etc.,  and  I 
then  made  my  sons  ride,  and  ride,  till  they  became 
tired  and  tried  to  beg  off. 

About  the  same  time  I took  them  to  the  Country 
Club,  and  made  them  swim,  and  swim  till  they  became 
tired  of  that,  too,  but  while  at  San  Juan  they  learned 
to  swim  and  ride  well.  I had  them  at  public  school, 
with  boys  and  girls  of  all  sorts  of  people,  and  I en- 
couraged them  to  learn  to  speak  Spanish  by  talking 
with  their  Porto  Rican  playmates  in  Spanish. 

In  Porto  Rico  the  mongoose  is  so  abundant  that 
there  are  very  few  rats  and  mice  on  the  island,  also 
very  few  birds  and  small  animals  of  any  kind.  Some 
day  there  will  be  offered  a reward  for  the  destruction 
of  each  mongoose,  just  as  there  will  be  in  some  parts 
of  Texas  for  the  armadillo,  and  for  the  same  reasons, 
the  destruction  by  them  of  more  valuable  animal 
life. 

The  aguacate  makes  the  best  salad  in  the  world,  and 
Porto  Rico  furnished  the  finest  specimen  of  that  fruit, 
which  is  sometimes  called  “alligator  pear.”  Porto 
Rico  coffee  is  also  unsurpassed  in  quality,  but  it  is  not 
abundant  enough.  Of  course  the  banana  and  cocoa- 
nut  abound  on  the  island,  and  are  of  the  very  best 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


427 


varieties.  At  night,  down  on  the  plaza  where  our 
regimental  band  and  that  of  the  Insular  Police  played, 
there  were  always  fresh  cocoanuts,  uncut. 

I would  invariably  buy  a cocoanut,  get  the  dealer 
to  clip  one  end  of  it  off  with  his  knife,  and  then,  just 
as  I had  done  many  a time  in  the  Philippines,  I would 
put  my  mouth  to  the  cut  end  of  the  cocoanut  and 
drink  all  the  liquid.  Some  saloons  kept  fresh  cocoanuts 
on  ice,  but  that  made  the  liquid  too  cold  for  pleasant 
drinking.  Convenient  to  the  same  plaza  there  was  a 
nice  confectionery  store,  where,  in  the  winter  time 
we  could  get,  on  ice,  Porto  Rican  watermelons. 
Those  melons  were  very  popular. 

Some  time  in  the  spring  of  1905  the  Governor  of 
Porto  Rico  requested  of  me  permission  to  use  part  of 
the  barracks  at  Aibonito  during  the  hot  season.  I 
consented.  He  then  informed  me  that  he  would  like 
to  have  certain  alterations  made  in  some  of  the  rooms. 
I told  the  Governor  that  he  was  welcome  to  use  those 
barracks  for  several  weeks  whenever  he  wished,  but 
that  I could  not  alter  a building  as  he  wished  me, 
because  of  the  regulation  in  the  Army  that  each  had 
its  own  separate  allotment  for  expenses,  and  that 
we  had  at  that  time  no  allotment  whatever  for  any 
of  those  buildings.  Those  barracks  had  been  built  in 
the  town  of  Aibonito  by  the  Americans  after  we  took 
possession  of  Porto  Rico.  Aibonito  is  on  the  fine 
military  road  which  the  Spaniards  built  from  San  Juan 
to  Ponce,  and  is  about  mid-way  between  those  two 
places,  and  is  located  on  the  highest  ground  between 
them.  The  view  there  is  beautiful. 

I also  declined  the  Governor’s  request  for  permis- 
sion to  make  the  alterations  at  his  own  expense, 
telling  him  of  the  Army  Regulations  forbidding  me, 


428 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


without  first  obtaining  authority,  to  alter  any  build- 
ing in  the  Army.  After  two  or  three  exchanges  of 
that  nature  the  Governor  finally  approached  me  at 
the  Country  Club,  and  there  renewed  the  matter 
while  we  were  drinking  lemonade,  and  being,  as 
previously,  informed  of  our  Army  Regulations  gov- 
erning the  quarters  question,  he  remarked  with  quite 
a show  of  feeling,  “Well,  I guess  I’ll  have  to  do 
some  cabling,”  to  which  I replied,  “Certainly,  Gov- 
ernor, I have  no  objection,”  kindly  and  politely 
spoken,  although  I plainly  saw  his  irritation. 

I knew  then  that  my  stay  in  Porto  Rico  would  not 
be  for  much  longer,  and  I so  informed  the  Quarter- 
master General  (Humphrey)  several  weeks  later  when 
he  came  down  to  inspect  the  island.  I told  him 
my  reasons  for  believing  so,  and  at  the  same 
time  I insisted  that  I could  not  have  acted  differ- 
ently under  the  circumstances,  which  I also  explained 
to  him. 

I wished  then  for  those  instructions  on  such  sub- 
jects which  I had  requested  nearly  two  years  before. 
In  about  two  weeks  from  my  last  talk  with  the  Gover- 
nor of  Porto  Rico  I received  a cablegram  from  Wash- 
ington, approximately  as  follows: 

“The  Secretary  of  War  directs  that  you  allow  the 
Governor  of  Porto  Rico  to  prepare  for  himself  habit- 
able quarters  in  the  barracks  of  Aibonito,  for  occu- 
pancy during  the  hot  season,  and  to  assist  him  with 
such  material  and  transportation  as  he  may  desire. 
Acknowledge  receipt.” 

I promptly  acknowledged  receipt  by  cable,  and  then 
I furnished  the  Governor  with  a copy  of  the  message, 
and  expressed  my  readiness  to  comply  with  every 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


429 


particular  of  it.  I also  requested  him  to  inform  me  as 
to  what  assistance  he  would  need,  and  when. 

On  one  occasion  he  asked  the  Commanding  Officer 
at  Cayey  for  one  wagon,  and  so  far  as  I could  ascertain 
by  inquiry  he  never  altered  at  all  those  barracks  at 
Aibonito,  and  never  lived  in  them.  About  the  first 
of  June  I received  a personal  letter  from  General 
Chaffee,  then  Chief  of  Staff,  saying  that  he  had  just 
returned  from  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  War  who 
informed  him  that  the  Lieutenant  Colonel  of  the 
8th  Infantry,  then  stationed  in  Cuba,  was  in  San 
Juan,  Porto  Rico,  absent  from  his  regiment,  and  that 
he  should  be  sent  to  join  his  regiment.  General 
Chaffee  added  that  he  would  very  soon  issue  an  order 
relieving  me  from  duty  at  San  Juan,  and  allowing  me 
a month  or  two  in  the  United  States  prior  to  going  to 
Cuba.  The  Aibonito  barracks  and  General  Chaffee’s 
letter  were  clearly  connected. 

Very  soon  afterwards  the  Secretary  of  War,  Mr. 
Taft,  went  to  the  Philippines,  and  General  Chaffee 
went  to  Honolulu,  and  then  I received  a cablegram 
from  Adjutant  General  Ainsworth,  saying,  “Vacancy 
Military  Secretary’s  Department.  Do  you  want  it?” 

I cabled  the  same  day  that  I would  like  the  detail 
offered  me,  and  the  following  day  I received  a second 
cablegram  from  Adjutant  General  Ainsworth,  saying, 
“Orders  issued  today  assigning  you  Northern  Divi- 
sion, Headquarters  St.  Louis.  Wait  till  arrival  of 
Colonel  Hobart  K.  Bailey  who  relieves  you.” 

After  being  at  San  Juan  six  or  eight  months  I was 
put  on  a Board  of  Officers  with  my  classmate  Glenn 
and  Captain  Carl  Martin,  Inf.,  to  examine  the  officers 
of  the  Porto  Rico  Regiment  under  the  orders  then 
existing.  Their  commissions  were  not  permanent,  and 


430 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


those  periodical  examinations  were  for  the  purpose 
of  weeding  out  the  inefficient. 

As  a result  of  the  examinations  several  officers  were 
dropped,  and  then  we  began  the  examinations  of 
Porto  Ricans  for  commissions  in  the  regiment.  All 
the  officers  dropped  were  Americans.  Before  I left 
the  island  six  or  eight  Porto  Ricans  were  given  com- 
missions, in  each  case  after  an  examination.  The 
majority  of  those  men  performed  their  duties  to  my 
satisfaction.  Lieutenants  Jaime  Nadal,  Eugenio  De 
Hostos,  and  P.  J.  Parra  were  the  best  of  them. 

I enjoyed  very  much  my  service  in  Porto  Eico, 
where  we  had  unusual  accommodations  because  of 
the  gradual  evacuations  of  posts,  which  had  accumu- 
lated great  supplies  at  San  Juan  by  such  evacuations. 

The  enlisted  men  of  the  regiment  were  very  docile 
and  easily  disciplined,  and  the  service  was  very  attrac- 
t:ve  to  them,  thus  enabling  us  to  keep  the  regiment 
always  at  full  strength,  with  a long  waiting  list.  At 
first  the  officers  were  all  Americans,  also  the  first  ser- 
geants and  some  sergeants,  but  the  American  enlisted 
men  were  soon  replaced,  and  the  officers  are  gradu- 
ally becoming  all  Porto  Rican.  It  is  an  excellent 
regiment  and  will  always  be  so.  The  band  was  a fine 
one,  an  excellent  leader  making  it  so.  Porto  Rican 
music  is  slightly  different  from  Spanish,  Mexican  and 
Filipina  music,  but  there  is  an  unmistakably  Spanish 
sound  to  it.  They  have  a national  air  (El  Borinquen) 
which  is  quite  pretty. 

When  I saw  quite  a number  of  Spanish  creoles  in 
San  Juan  I was  reminded  of  the  great  number  of  blue 
eyes  that  I saw  on  Esplanade  Street  in  New  Orleans. 
The  blue  eyed  Spanish  descendants  in  Porto  Rico  have 
many  of  the  good  and  attractive  qualities  that  are 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


431 


noticeable  on  Esplanade  Street.  Those  descendants  of 
Latin  races  are  fine  people,  in  both  cases. 

The  outstanding  features  of  my  service  in  Porto 
Rico  which  will  stick  longest  in  my  memory  were,  the 
labor  strike  which  I believe  I put  down,  the  sending 
of  one  battalion  of  the  regiment  to  “Teddy’s”  inaugu- 
ration, the  scare  which  the  German  warship  “ Panther” 
gave  us  and  then  sailed  on  by  us,  the  visit  of  the 
Italian  prince  who  was  at  that  time  supposed  to  be 
engaged  to  be  married  to  an  American  girl,  and  the 
disagreement  with  the  Governor  of  Porto  Rico  which, 
in  my  opinion,  caused  my  removal. 

At  the  end  of  his  leave  Colonel  Bailey  landed  at 
San  Juan,  and  in  four  or  five  days  more  my  boys  and 
I took  the  steamer  for  New  York.  Before  going  to 
St.  Louis  I went  down  to  Washington  and  visited  the 
Military  Secretary’s  Department. 

As  soon  as  General  Ainsworth  saw  me  he  said,  “You 
had  lots  of  trouble  with  the  Governor  of  Porto  Rico, 
didn’t  you.”  To  my  thanks  for  the  detail  in  his 
department  he  replied  that  he  had  only  gone  strictly 
and  carefully  into  the  records. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

I took  my  boys  with  me  to  St.  Louis,  and  we  put 
up  at  the  “Usona,”  a family  hotel  on  Kingshighway, 
or  50th  Street,  where  we  lived  during  our  entire  stay 
in  St.  Louis.  My  first  Division  Commander  was 
General  George  Randall,  who  was  followed  in  rapid 
succession  by  Generals  Weston,  Corbin  and  Greeley. 
All  of  those  officers  were  especially  kind  and  con- 
siderate to  their  subordinates  and  clerical  help.  The 
only  one  of  them  that  had  anything  special  on  his 
hands  while  there  was  General  Greeley,  who  gave 
close  personal  attention  to  the  Ute  Indian  outbreak 
in  1906,  when  a large  body  of  that  tribe  left  their 
reservation  in  Colorado  and  marched  across  Wyoming 
towards  Fort  Meade,  S.  D. 

The  Utes  were  finally  rounded  up  by  the  combined 
efforts  of  the  10th  Cavalry  under  Col.  Jake  Augur, 
and  the  6th  Cavalry  under  Col.  “Sandy”  Rodgers, 
while  that  excellent  field  soldier  Carter  Johnson  did 
most  commendable  service.  General  Greeley  came  to 
us  from  San  Francisco,  where  he  had  been  Department 
Commander  at  the  time  of  the  great  earthquake  and 
fire.  When  that  began  he  was  on  the  cars  travelling 
across  the  continent  eastward,  on  leave.  He  imme- 
diately returned  to  San  Francisco  and  relieved  General 
Funston  of  the  command. 


432 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


433 


I found  a member  of  the  General  Staff  at  our  head- 
quarters, as  Chief  of  Staff.  That  fact  relieved  me  of 
some  of  the  duties  which  I had  formerly  performed  as 
Adjutant  General  of  a Department.  Col.  H.  A. 
Greene,  Inf.,  was  Chief  of  Staff,  and  a good  one. 
When  he  went  off  on  a long  trip  inspecting  schools  at 
military  posts  I would  add  his  duties  to  mine,  and 
even  then  I would  not  be  very  busy.  I remember 
that  once,  for  a few  days,  the  Division  Commander, 
General  Corbin,  was  also  absent.  It  was  not  a very 
difficult  undertaking  to  decide  a few  questions,  and 
sometimes  sign  a paper,  “In  the  absence  of  the  Divi- 
sion Commander.”  General  Corbin  showed  me  the 
same  kindly  heart  that  he  had  always  shown. 

I got  to  St.  Louis  too  late  to  see  any  of  the 
“World’s  Fair”  except  the  buildings,  and  the  rem- 
nants of  “The  Alps.”  Evidently  the  World’s  Fair 
had  been  a stupendous  thing. 

My  first  wife’s  brother-in-law,  Howard  H.  Hoyt, 
came  down  from  Chicago  one  day  and  paid  me  a 
short  visit.  I had  him  with  me  a week  or  so  the  year 
before  when  he  and  his  wife  Mary  visited  us  in  San 
Juan,  P.  R.  That  visit  to  Porto  Rico  was  Hoyt’s 
first  lay  off  from  work  during  his  very  busy  life,  and 
he  enjoyed  the  trip  immensely.  When  he  came  to 
St.  Louis  he  had  become  a power  in  insurance 
questions. 

My  classmate  Blockson  joined  us  as  successor  to 
Greene  on  the  latter’s  promotion  to  colonel,  and  was 
on  hand  when  I needed  him  after  a while. 

I always  went  to  my  military  duties  on  Sundays 
the  same  as  on  other  days,  in  St.  Louis  the  same  as  at 
other  places,  in  the  afternoon  the  same  as  in  the  fore- 
noon. In  St.  Louis  there  being  very  little  to  do  in  the 


434 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


afternoon  I took  my  boys  with  me,  and  en  route  to 
the  office  we  stopped  at  the  shooting  galleries,  where 
I instructed  the  little  fellows  in  shooting  with  the 
rifle  and  pistol,  first  teaching  them  how  to  hold  the 
weapon  and  then  how  to  aim  it  properly. 

For  a short  time  I had  them  shoot  only  at  motion- 
less objects,  in  order  to  be  able  to  make  the  necessary 
corrections  of  the  mistakes  of  beginners,  but,  after 
being  sure  that  they  knew  how  to  hold  the  weapon 
and  aim  at  such  easy  targets,  I carried  the  boys  to 
the  moving  targets,  explaining  that  whatever  man  or 
beast  they  might  want  to  shoot  would,  in  all  prob- 
ability, be  moving  rapidly.  That  practice  was  of  great 
benefit.  It  is  good  for  any  man. 

Soon  the  need  of  dancing  lessons  became  evident, 
so  I sent  my  boys  to  a good  dancing  school,  with  my 
permission  to  drop  dancing  whenever  it  should  please 
them  to  do  so,  but  I wanted  them  to  learn  how,  for 
two  reasons  which  I explained  to  them.  It  makes  a 
man  surer,  better  and  quicker  on  his  feet  in  any  sort 
of  a struggle,  and  it  tends  greatly  to  remove  awkward 
manners,  to  be  a good  dancer. 

When  the  proper  season  came  around,  my  sons  were 
supplied  with  skates  and  bicycles,  my  object  being 
always  to  make  them  at  home  in  all  manner  of  proper 
exercises  and  games.  I also  took  the  boys  to  see  what 
was  left  of  the  “World’s  Fair.’ 

My  brother,  J.  T.  Crane,  died  while  I was  stationed 
at  St.  Louis,  and  I went  down  into  Oklahoma,  and 
then  into  Arkansas,  to  visit  the  families  of  my  brothers, 
and  especially  my  mother  who  lived  with  Tom's 
widow,  Luta,  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Styles  of  old 
Independence.  A fine  woman,  Luta. 

Late  in  the  fall  of  1906  the  Division  Headquarters 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


435 


were  moved  to  Chicago,  and  located  in  the  big  Federal 
Building,  the  Department  Headquarters  there  being 
already  located  in  that  same  building. 

I returned  to  St.  Louis  and  married  Miss  Louisa  K. 
Tirrill  on  December  1,  1906,  with  Blockson  as  my 
best  man.  Again  I married  the  descendant  of  a dis- 
tinguished old  timer  in  our  history.  While  Martha 
Mitchell  was  a direct  descendant  of  John  Hart,  a 
signer  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  Louisa 
Tirrill  was  descended  from  John  Alden  and  Priscilla 
Mullins. 

We  took  a short  trip  to  Washington  and  Richmond 
and  before  the  end  of  the  month  I reported  for  duty 
at  Fort  Sam  Houston,  Texas,  as  adjutant  general  of 
the  department.  I had  requested  the  change,  believing 
that,  in  justice  to  myself  and  my  claims  for  recogni- 
tion in  appointment  to  brigadier  general,  I ought  to 
be  among  my  best  friends  and  neighbors  and  get 
their  assistance. 

At  my  new  post  of  duty  my  first  chief  was  General 
McCaskey,  who  was  soon  retired  as  major  general, 
having  arrived  at  the  age  limit.  That  happened  early 
in  1907,  and  Col.  Ralph  Hoyt,  Inf.,  the  senior  colonel 
on  duty  in  the  department,  came  to  San  Antonio  and 
Fort  Sam  Houston  to  take  command  until  a new 
general  should  come  along. 

General  McCaskey  had  been  prone  to  listen 
to  the  requests  of  deserters  for  restoration  to  duty 
without  trial,  also  to  the  requests  of  men  tried  by 
General  Courts  Martial  for  remission  of  part  of  the 
sentence  imposed.  Soon  after  Col.  Hoyt’s  arrival  we 
received  the  request  for  restoration  to  duty  without 
trial  of  a soldier  who  had  deserted  about  eight  months 
before  from  Fort  Leavenworth,  and  had  been  arrested 


436 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


at  San  Antonio.  The  request  had  the  approval  of  the 
post  commander. 

As  a result  of  Col.  Hoyt’s  action  on  that,  and  other 
similar  requests,  there  was  a great  diminution  of  the 
number  of  such  requests  at  our  headquarters.  Col. 
Hoyt  was  an  excellent  officer,  and  well  deserved  the 
promotion  to  brigadier  general  which  he  received  not 
long  afterwards.  During  his  few  weeks’  command  of 
the  Department  of  Texas  he  showed  some  very  fine 
traits  as  a military  man.  The  new  brigadier  general, 
Albert  Myer,  succeeded  him,  and  commanded  the 
department  till  his  retirement  for  age  several  years 
later.  He  was  very  young  and  vigorous  for  his  age, 
but  did  not  have  the  good  fortune  to  win  a second 
star. 

During  all  those  months  of  duty  at  the  Head- 
quarters, Department  of  Texas,  I did  not  miss  a single 
day  from  duty,  but  I was  gradually  becoming  weaker 
and  thinner.  In  Porto  Rico  and  at  St.  Louis  I had 
received  warnings  from  my  stomach,  which  I did  not 
think  indicated  anything  serious.  After  eating  nothing 
but  milk,  malted  milk  and  zweibach  for  several 
months  I obtained  a sick  leave,  but  at  the  date  of  my 
departure  on  such  leave  I had  still  strength  enough 
to  beat  both  of  my  boys  at  tennis  singles,  one  set  each, 
taking  the  big  boy  first.  The  boys  were  then  16  and 
13  years  of  age. 

As  early  as  the  middle  of  November,  1906,  while 
on  duty  at  Chicago,  I was  hard  hit  in  my  stomach 
and  intestines,  but  I hung  on  till  I had  no  trouble 
in  getting  a sick  leave  for  four  months,  and  none  in 
getting  it  extended  for  two  months.  Quite  a number 
of  surgeons  treated  me,  but  they  made  no  improve- 
ment in  my  condition,  ind  rrhrn  T r-nnt  nirny  T Tnd 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


437 


I fihnnld  PTltf^i  inordec  t.o.get..rftligfLmm-ffly. 
<^sease»  They  could  tell  me  of  no  army  hospital  where 
a specialty  was  made  of  treatment  of  such  cases  as 
mine  was,  and  I knew  then  that  only  a specialist 
could  do  me  much  good. 

While  suffering  from  my  stomach  and  intestines,  in 
February  and  March  of  1907  I was  a member  of  the 
General  Court  Martial  at  Fort  Sam  Houston  which 
investigated  the  Brownsville  affair  some  months  be- 
fore. The  Court  met  daily,  except  Sundays,  for  seven 
weeks.  My  classmate  Glenn  was  counsel  for  the 
defense,  and  stayed  with  me  the  entire  time  of  the 
trial.  We  did  not  differ  much  as  to  the  causes  and 
merits  of  the  case.  That  was  the  trial  which  gave  the 
25th  Infantry  a hard  knock. 

When  the  case  was  nearly  through,  my  classmate 
and  I had  much  talk  about  our  arm  of  the  service,  to 
which  we  were  both  devoted.  We  agreed  that  the 
infantry  of  our  Army  had  not  been  receiving  all  that 
we  were  entitled  to,  in  several  particulars,  and  we 
believed  that  by  a strong  appeal  we  could  wake  up 
and  arouse  our  comrades  to  action,  and  that  by  organ- 
izing ourselves  more  compactly  and  by  working 
together,  we  could  effect  some  changes  for  the  better 
in  the  Army. 

We  spent  considerable  time  getting  up  a circular 
letter  which  we  sent  out  to  every  infantry  officer  on 
the  active  list.  This  was  our  appeal,  and  meeting  with 
hearty  response  from  every  direction  we  continued 
our  work,  and  constituted  ourselves  and  Capt.  Ralph 
Van  Deman  an  “Infantry  Committee.” 

We  succeeded  in  arousing  the  infantry  of  our  Army, 
and  by  doing  so  the  condition  of  the  “back  bone  of 


438 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  Army”  has  been  greatly  improved,  and  the 
influence  of  our  branch  of  the  service  has  been  much 
increased,  “for  the  good  of  the  service.”  We  wanted 
the  same  pay  that  mounted  officers  received  under 
similar  conditions,  and  we  wanted  details,  appoint- 
ments and  promotions  apportioned  according  to  our 
numerical  strength.  We  wanted  an  increase  in  the 
number  of  infantry  regiments,  also  a Chief  of  Infantry 
to  look  after  our  interests  in  Washington. 

The  purposes  for  which  we  worked  have  been  suc- 
cessful beyond  our  expectations,  but  Glenn  and  I 
were  both  relieved  from  our  detached  service  and 
ordered  to  join  our  respective  regiments,  he  to  go  to 
the  Philippines,  and  I to  go  to  Cuba  and  join  the 
17th  Infantry.  It  seemed  to  me  that  Glenn  and  I 
were  being  punished,  and  I have  no  doubt  of  it.  I 
have  heard  more  than  once  that  because  of  my  efforts 
for  the  infantry  I had  “sacrificed”  myself  for  my 
arm  of  the  service.  Glenn  was  young  enough  to  out- 
live the  unfavorable  conditions  which  we  had  aroused 
against  ourselves,  but  I was  too  old. 

We  worked  hard  for  the  infantry,  did  a great  deal 
of  correspondence,  issued  many  letters  of  advice,  and 
met  twice  in  committee.  The  first  time  we  met  was 
in  Columbus  Barracks,  Ohio,  and  the  second  time  we 
met  in  Washington,  D.  C.  Our  activity  made  us 
unpopular  with  the  War  Department. 

In  Washington  I saw  for  the  last  time  my  best  loved 
chief,  General  Hughes,  then  on  the  retired  list.  Again 
he  urged  me  to  “Get  on  the  General  Staff;  they  will 
have  the  disposal  of  all  the  plums,  and  very  naturally 
they  will  divide  the  fruit  among  themselves.”  I tried, 
but  could  not  make  it. 

The  order  for  me  to  join  the  17th  Infantry  in  Cuba 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


439 


came  while  I was  on  sick  leave,  and  luckily  I was  pro- 
moted to  Colonel,  9th  Infantry  on  October  25,  1907, 
and  that  regiment  arrived  from  the  Philippines  before 
the  end  of  my  sick  leave. 

Before  I departed  on  sick  leave  June  15,  1907,  my 
ailment  had  been  pronounced  a “mild  case  of  sprue,” 
and  for  several  months  I had  been  living  on  liquid 
food,  finally  increased  by  the  dried  bread  called 
“zwiebach,”  and  when  I left  Fort  Sam  Houston  I 
inquired  of  the  surgeons  I met  as  to  what  hospitals 
in  our  service  gave  special  attention  to  diseases  of  the 
stomach  and  intestines,  and  I could  get  no  positive 
encouragement  to  go  to  any  particular  hospital.  I 
asked  lots  of  questions,  and  finally  departed  on  plans 
formed  by  myself.  I included  in  my  application  a 
request  for  authority  to  enter  the  Army  and  Navy 
General  Hospital  at  Hot  Springs,  Ark.,  in  order  to  see 
what  was  really  done  there  that  might  help  me,  but 
intending  to  go  first  to  a sanitarium  at  Geneva,  N.  Y., 
which  had  been  recommended  to  me  by  Col.  Hoyt 
from  his  personal  experience  with  similar  trouble. 

I went  then,  first  to  Geneva  and  entered  the  sani- 
tarium, a fine  place  to  assist  a person  to  recuperate, 
or  convalesce,  but  I had  not  reached  that  favorable 
a condition.  After  some  weeks  my  wife  came  on  to 
see  me,  and  the  result  of  our  frequent  conferences  was 
my  going  to  Chicago,  to  take  special  treatment  under 
the  very  noted  Doctor  Fenton  B.  Turck,  1820  Michi- 
gan Avenue.  I had  for  many  months  known  of  Dr. 
Turck  and  of  his  great  reputation  as  a stomach  special- 
ist, but  I had  been  scared  away  from  him  by  my  fear 
of  exorbitant  charges  for  treatment.  Finally,  I con- 
cluded to  go  to  him  and  stay  out  the  limit  of  time 
allowed  by  my  pocketbook,  even  if  only  for  one  week. 


440 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I found  the  Doctor  a very  affable  and  agreeable 
gentleman  of  hardly  40  summers,  a very  robust, 
strong  and  healthy  looking  man.  He  quickly  made  me 
delighted  that  I had  gone  to  him.  Immediately  I had 
faith  in  his  methods,  and  I learned  that  his  charges 
were  very  reasonable  for  a specialist.  But  he  informed 
me  that  he  was  charging  me  only  one-third  of  what 
he  was  charging  civilians  for  the  same  treatment. 
Apparently  he  was  influenced  by  some  kind  act  done 
him  by  some  officer  of  the  Army,  years  before,  and 
his  kind  thoughtfulness  for  me  extended  to  my  purse 
in  other  ways  too,  for  he  advised  me  to  go  diagonally 
across  the  street  to  a nice  boarding  house,  and  thus 
save  many  dollars  per  month,  instead  of  staying  in 
his  sanitarium. 

During  my  entire  stay  under  his  care  and  treatment 
he  gave  me  no  medicine,  and  constantly  encouraged 
me  to  broaden  my  diet.  On  three  occasions  he  gave 
me  nice  dinners,  twice  at  a fine  club  down  on  the  lake 
and  once  at  Evanston,  taking  me  to  those  places  in 
his  own  auto.  At  those  dinners  he  had  very  tempting 
dishes,  and  he  watched  closely  the  effect  eating  such 
things  had  on  me,  feeling  sure  of  his  ability  to  prevent 
any  serious  damage  happening  to  me. 

Dr.  Turck  loved  to  talk,  and  by  leading  the  con- 
versation so  as  to  have  it  touch  on  my  own  ailment, 
causes,  treatment,  results,  etc.,  I learned  from  him  a 
great  deal  of  most  valuable  information  regarding  my 
own  disease.  Instead  of  dosing  me  with  medicine  he 
gave  me  two  operations  daily,  five  or  six  times  a 
week.  In  the  forenoon  he  inserted  into  my  intestines, 
through  the  rectum,  two  quarts  of  water  containing 
strong  medicine  in  some  form. 

On  five  or  six  occasions  it  was  a solution  of  nitrate 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


441 


of  silver,  on  other  occasions  it  was  a solution  of 
permanganate  of  potash,  and  there  were  several  other 
powerful  drugs  among  those  given  me  daily  in  those 
operations,  locally. 

Of  course  the  nitrate  of  silver  was  somewhat  painful, 
and  I noticed  that  some  healing  and  soothing  solution 
was  sure  to  follow  next  day.  By  much  talking  during 
those  operations,  all  done  in  an  easy,  natural  way, 
I learned  from  Dr.  Turck  that  my  intestinal  trouble 
had  been  caused  by  constipation,  the  contents  of  the 
lower  intestine  stopping  so  long  in  one  place  as  to 
finally  cause  irritation,  which  steadily  increased  with 
continued  constipation,  resulting  in  a number  of  sores 
which  finally  became  ulcers,  which  would,  if  unchecked 
eat  through  the  intestines. 

The  nitrate  of  silver  was  intended  to  burn  the  sores, 
and  thus  change  their  nature,  removing  poison  from 
them.  The  other  strong  solutions  were  used  for 
healing  purposes. 

In  the  afternoons  Dr.  Turck  would  assist  me  to 
swallow  about  twelve  inches  of  a double  barrel  tube 
of  rubber,  one  barrel  of  which  was  open  five  or  six 
inches  from  my  mouth,  and  the  other  passed  into  a 
closed  glass  jar  which  contained  some  very  strong 
drug,  or  medicine.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  jar 
another  rubber  tube  came  out  and  connected  with  a 
small  hollow  rubber  ball  which  was  arranged  so  as 
to  force  the  air  from  inside  the  jar  down  into  my 
stomach  by  the  mere  squeezing  of  the  rubber  ball. 
By  alternate  squeezing  and  releasing  the  pressure 
from  the  ball,  the  Doctor  inflated  my  stomach  to 
what  seemed  to  be  almost  the  bursting  point.  On  sev- 
eral occasions  it  was  menthol  which  was  thus  forced 
far  down  my  stomach.  On  one  occasion  the  tube  was 


442 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


inserted  a trifle  too  far,  and  I promptly  fainted,  with 
no  bad  result. 

Evidently  Doctor  Turck  was  trying  to  locally  treat 
and  heal  some  points  of  local  irritation,  or  sores,  in 
my  stomach  and  intestines,  by  touching  the  spots 
themselves,  first  with  a powerful  cauterizer,  and  then 
cure  the  burn  thus  made  by  the  application  of  a 
healing,  soothing  medicine. 

After  five  or  six  weeks  of  this  treatment  I was 
advised  by  him  to  take  a few  days  rest.  To  unite 
recreation  with  my  rest  I went  up  into  north  Wisconsin 
to  hunt  partridges,  or  pheasants,  near  Eagle  River, 
having  first  written  home  for  my  gun  and  hunting 
outfit.  At  Eagle  River  I learned  that  Everett’s  Resort, 
which  I intended  to  visit,  was  closed,  and  that  all  the 
resorts  were  closed  for  that  season,  it  being  then  late 
in  October.  I had  provided  myself  with  a hunting 
license  which  allowed  me  to  go  after  the  Wisconsin 
birds  only,  no  deer.  “Ruffed  grouse”  is  the  book 
name  for  the  fine  game  bird  which  I intended  to 
hunt,  and  I had  already  killed  them  as  “ willow  grouse” 
in  Utah,  Idaho  and  Wyoming,  and  I had  seen  them 
as  “partridges”  at  and  around  West  Point,  N.  Y. 
They  are  the  only  grouse  with  white  meat,  not  classing 
quail  as  grouse. 

At  Eagle  River  I looked  up  a guide  whose  name  had 
been  given  me  by  my  wife  who  had,  years  before, 
spent  several  summers  at  Everett’s  Resort,  and  with 
a buckboard  and  the  guide’s  little  spaniel  we  started 
out  to  drive  through  the  woods,  and  along  the  many 
lakes  which  abound  in  that  section.  We  drove  about 
thirty  miles  the  first  day  along  the  old  roads  which 
had  once  been  used  in  getting  out  the  big  trees  of 
that  beautiful  pine  forest.  Thousands  of  immense 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


443 


stumps  are  still  there,  and  many  more  thousands  of 
small,  straight  young  pine  trees  20  to  50  feet  high. 
Our  old  roads  through  the  light,  sandy  soil  were  some- 
times overgrown  with  clover  which  the  grouse  fed 
on,  and  my  guide  and  the  little  black  spaniel  were  on 
the  wide  awake  all  the  time  for  clover. 

We  always  dismounted,  and  tied  the  team  when- 
ever we  found  clover,  and  the  dog  would  be  encour- 
aged to  hunt.  Frequently  one  or  two  birds  would  be 
found  by  the  dog  and  made  to  fly  up  into  a tree,  and 
by  the  dog’s  barking  we  would  be  guided  to  the  spot. 
In  hunting  this  way  I succeeded  in  killing  four  birds 
the  first  day.  The  weather  was  very  cold  to  me,  not- 
withstanding my  very  warm  clothing.  It  snowed  a 
little,  and  then  it  apparently  got  too  cold  to  snow. 
We  saw  some  beautiful  lakes  of  clear*  blue  water,  all 
surrounded  by  dense  woods  and  sometimes  containing 
a small  island.  Late  in  the  afternoon  we  arrived  at  a 
resort  on  the  shore  of  a bigger  lake  than  usual.  The 
guide  called  the  lake  then,  “Muscalonge  Lake,”  but, 
we  had  been  talking  about  that  famous  fish. 

We  stopped  there  for  the  night,  and  we  were  well 
taken  care  of,  man  and  beast,  and  I especially  enjoyed 
the  excellent  fresh  meat,  which  my  guide  had  before 
our  arrival  warned  me  not  to  ask  any  questions  about. 
The  guide  had  said  that  we  would  be  given  some  very 
fine  fresh  meat,  which  I was  not  to  ask  the  name  of, 
and  that  this  fine  meat  would  resemble  young,  tender 
beef,  but  that  it  would  be  something  else.  The  game 
season  for  deer  had  not  then  opened. 

The  next  morning  we  started  for  Eagle  River  by  a 
different  road,  passing  close  to  eight  beautiful  small 
lakes,  and  we  found  more  clover  growing  along  the 
roads,  consequently  I got  some  more  birds,  making 


444 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


eleven  in  all.  But  I was  so  weak,  and  my  10  gauge 
double  barrel  Parker  shotgun  was  so  heavy  that  I 
missed  all  of  my  seven  wing  shots.  The  birds  were 
very  tame.  The  little  black  spaniel  would  run  out 
and  find  a bird,  make  it  fly  up  a tree,  and  then  the 
dog  would  bark,  to  let  us  know  where  he  and  the  bird 
were.  Sometimes  when  wre  arrived  where  the  dog  was 
the  bird  was  gone,  but  I had  no  doubt  that  in  each 
case  of  barking  by  the  dog  the  pheasant  had  been 
there. 

On  returning  to  Eagle  River  I put  all  the  birds  in 
my  dress  suit  case,  and  in  this  manner  I carried  them 
down  to  Chicago.  In  the  same  way,  in  the  winter 
of  1897-8  I carried  some  mallard  ducks  and  prairie 
chickens  from  the  old  Fort  Hall  Indian  Agency  back 
to  Fort  Douglas.  In  Chicago  I presented  eight  of  my 
pheasants  to  Dr.  Turck.  He  had  been  so  kind  to  me 
that  I was  very  glad  to  be  able  to  make  some  small 
return.  The  other  three  birds  I took  to  my  board- 
ing house,  gave  one  to  my  landlady  and  kept  two  for 
my  own  table,  and  when  I found  how  good  and  small 
they  were  I wished  that  I had  kept  more  of  them  for 
myself.  There  were  three  others  at  my  table,  and 
I divided  my  birds  with  them. 

When  I felt  so  much  improved  that  I could  go  and 
perform  my  military  duties,  and  had  absorbed  from 
Dr.  Turck  enough  information  about  my  condition 
to  be  able,  in  a measure,  to  continue  some  of  his  work, 
I left  him  and  went  on  to  our  big  hospital  at  Hot 
Springs,  Ark.,  where  my  orders  authorized  me  to  go. 
I did  not  expect  any  more  benefit  from  treatment 
there,  but  I wanted  to  know  if  our  fine  Army  and 
Navy  Hospital  there  had  the  necessary  facilities  and 
were  accustomed  to  treat  just  such  cases  as  mine. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


445 


That  information  I might  need  in  the  future,  in 
case  of  return  of  my  dread  disease  which  had  been 
left  me  as  a legacy  by  my  amoebic  dysentery  contracted 
during  my  “hikes”  in  Batangas  Province,  Panay.  I 
really  did  not  believe  that  I would  find  at  Hot  Springs 
the  skill  and  information  necessary  for  treatment  of 
such  cases  as  mine,  and  I was  very  agreeably  surprised 
to  find  that  the  Surgeon  in  Charge  was  prepared  to 
do  so.  He  had  gone  to  Carlsbad,  Bohemia,  for  treat- 
ment of  his  own  case,  he  informed  me. 

I spent  the  last  seven  or  eight  days  of  my  sick  leave 
at  our  Hot  Springs  hospital,  and,  while  I don’t  believe 
that  Dr.  Turck’s  success  in  my  case  could  have  been 
duplicated  there,  I am  sure  that  I would  have  been 
greatly  benefited  by  going  there  in  the  beginning, 
especially  if  that  same  surgeon  would  have  been  there 
to  treat  me.  The  idea  of  going  to  Hot  Springs  was  my 
own,  without  suggestion  from  any  one.  I remembered 
from  my  experience  there  in  1894  how  good  and  pure 
that  water  was,  and  I had  great  faith  in  it. 

From  Dr.  Turck  I got  the  belief  that  diseases  like 
mine  were  local;  being  points  of  local  irritation  and 
subject  to  local  treatment  if  they  could  be  reached 
locally;  that  after  long  neglect  the  irritation  would 
become  a sore,  and  then  an  ulcer,  and  a malignant 
growth,  causing  all  sorts  of  diseases,  including  cases 
of  sprue  like  mine.  For  cases  like  mine  had  become, 
the  swallowing  of  medicine  could  give  little  relief, 
except  from  pain,  and  that,  I did  not  have,  strange 
to  say! 

Anything  like  permanent  cure  must  be  accomplished 
by  reaching  the  various  places  locally,  with  some 
strong  medicine  which  would  effect  practically  a burn, 
and  in  such  manner  alter  the  nature  of  the  malady. 


446 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Indeed,  most  cases  of  infection  seem  to  call  for  either 
a burn  or  the  cutting  away  of  the  part  affected,  or 
infected,  and  this  seems  to  hold  good,  no  matter  what 
part  of  one’s  anatomy  may  be  affected.  In  this  con- 
nection I have  often  remembered  that  old  story  of 
the  country  doctor,  who  was  not  so  ignorant  as  he 
described  himself  as  being,  when  he  said,  “I  don’t 
know  much  about  medicine,  but  I have  something 
that  will  throw  a man  into  fits,  and  then,  I’m  hell  on 
fits.”  Thousands  of  cases  fail  to  be  cured,  but  most 
burns  can  be  cured,  also  most  amputations. 

Dr.  Turck  has  so  prospered  in  his  work  that  he  now 
lives  in  New  York,  and  is  said  to  have  time  to  treat 
only  millionaires,  but  I can  hardly  believe  that,  and 
I am  sure  that  he  would  find  time  to  work  another 
miracle  on  me  if  I should  again  appear  in  his  office  in 
need  of  treatment. 

My  sick  leave  was  for  six  months,  for  I found  it 
necessary  to  get  an  extension  of  two  months  to  the 
four  months  first  granted  me.  By  regular  habits,  and, 
by  not  eating  some  things  that  other  people  act 
unwisely  in  eating,  I have  practically  regained  my 
health,  but  not  my  proper  weight,  nor  my  old  time 
strength  which  always  seemed  to  depend  on  my 
weight. 

From  that  long  sick  leave  I returned  for  the  last 
time  to  duty  in  the  line,  having  been  promoted  during 
my  absence  and  assigned  to  the  9th  Infantry,  and 
strange  to  say,  I did  not  have  a change  of  station 
except  to  go  from  the  staff  post  to  the  infantry  post 
at  Fort  Sam  Houston.  When  I arrived  from  the 
Army  and  Navy  Hospital  about  the  middle  of  Decem- 
ber, 1907,  I found  my  family  still  in  the  lower,  or 
staff  post,  but  it  did  not  take  me  long  to  get  into  my 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


447 


proper  quarters,  No.  26.  On  my  promotion  to  that 
fine  regiment  I felt  again  as  I had  felt  on  promotion 
to  captain  and  the  command  of  Company  “F,”  24th 
Infantry.  In  both  cases  my  new  organization  was 
already  at  such  a high  state  of  discipline  and  general 
efficiency  that,  for  me,  it  was  more  a question  of 
retaining  and  holding  my  command  at  its  former 
excellent  condition  than  of  trying  to  make  a record 
by  a marvellous  improvement.  But  I am  proud  in 
my  belief  that,  during  my  entire  incumbency  in  office 
as  colonel  of  the  9th  Infantry,  I kept  the  regiment  in 
a condition  at  least  as  good  as  I found  it  in. 

One  most  noticeable  peculiarity  was  the  very  strong 
regimental  feeling  which  I found  existing,  and  which 
I made  it  a point  to  foster  and  preserve  and  to  use 
as  a means  of  keeping  up  a high  state  of  discipline 
and  efficiency.  In  the  regiment  I found  somewhat 
different  methods  from  those  I had  seen  practiced  in 
the  24th  Infantry,  and  quite  a number  of  them  I 
tested  and  continued  the  use  of.  More  liberty  was 
allowed  the  enlisted  men  of  the  9th  Infantry,  and, 
while  I was  sometimes  in  doubt  as  to  its  advisability, 
I found  it  an  excellent  thing  and  at  the  same  time  to 
hold  to  strict  accountability  for  misbehaviour.  I have 
never  regretted  being  young  enough  to  learn  a thing 
or  two  regarding  the  important  matter  of  discipline. 

Garrison  duty  at  that  time  was  beginning  to  in- 
crease, and  to  grow  more  voluminous  and  exacting, 
covering  more  ground  than  ever  before.  I found  also 
more  social  duty  than  I had  ever  seen  before.  Fort 
Sam  Houston  was  even  then  a large  post,  and  it  is 
still  growing.  Col.  J.  H.  Dorst  was  then  its  permanent 
commanding  officer,  and  Col.  Lotus  Niles,  Field 
Artillery  was  also  my  senior  in  rank.  Nevertheless, 


448 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I was  for  about  eight  months  post  commander,  and  I 
enjoyed  it  very  much. 

Test  rides  for  officers  had  begun  the  year  before, 
and  I had  ridden  one  under  General  Myer,  it  being 
then  a test  ride  of  15  miles  at  quite  a fast  gait.  I rode 
it  on  my  new  bay  horse  “Dandy,”  which  my  wife 
had  waiting  for  me  on  my  return  to  duty.  She  got 
my  old  time  friend  Ripley  to  select  and  buy  the 
animal  for  me,  and  again  Ripley  made  good.  I rode 
that  good  horse  till  I left  for  the  Philippines. 

During  the  early  spring  of  1908  I went  to  Bandera, 
Texas,  and  up  the  Medina  River  for  nearly  60  miles, 
to  inspect  a tract  of  about  2300  acres  of  land  which 
I read  advertisement  of  in  San  Antonio  newspapers 
at  one  dollar  and  a quarter  per  acre.  I was  looking 
to  make  an  investment  for  my  wife.  I went  to  Boerne 
by  rail,  then  15  miles  by  stage  to  Bandera,  on  the 
Medina  River,  where  I stopped  for  the  night  and 
interviewed  the  agent  for  the  land,  who  had  previously 
promised  to  take  me  up  the  river  to  where  the  land 
was.  Near  the  close  of  the  second  day  w*e  found  a 
farmer  who  knew  where  the  land  was,  and  he  loaned 
me  a good  saddle  horse  to  ride  about  three  miles  out 
into  the  hills  to  look  at  it. 

Before  leaving  Fort  Sam  Houston  I could  not 
understand  how  land  in  Bandera  County  could  be 
worth  only  one  dollar  and  a quarter  per  acre,  but, 
after  inspecting  the  land  which  I had  gone  there  to 
see,  I understood  it  very  well,  and  I knew  that  I had 
seen  some  of  it.  Some  scrub  cedar  and  thorny  bushes 
were  about  all  that  the  soil  of  that  land  could  afford, 
or  support.  So,  on  returning  to  the  agent  whom  I had 
left  with  the  farmer,  I had  to  inform  him  that  I could 
not  buy  the  land.  The  valley  from  Bandera  to  my 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


449 


stopping  place  was  beautiful,  and  I saw  lots  of  good 
small  farms,  and  land  good  for  farming,  and  I returned 
to  Bandera  sure  that  in  a few  years  that  there  would 
be  a railroad  following  the  valley  of  the  Medina  River. 

I still  believe  that.  But  I returned  to  Fort  Sam  Hous- 
ton somewhat  wiser  regarding  the  value  of  land  adver- 
tised for  sale. 

Soon  after  that  I went  up  to  Dallas  to  look  at  some 
more  land,  and  my  nephew  Harry  Bondies  showed  mjf" 
a beautiful  piece  of  ground  just  outside  of  the  cittf  - 
limits,  but  it  was  too  hilly,  and  it  was  cut  up  by  a 
small  running  creek,  so  that  I could  not  get  my  own 
consent  to  buy  that  land  either.  So  I rode  out  from 
San  Antonio  in  every  direction,  and  I examined  quite 
a number  of  pieces  of  land  which  I had  seen  advertised 
for  sale  in  the  papers,  all  to  no  good  result.  Finally, 
while  riding  horseback  out  on  the  old  Castroville 
road,  beyond  the  city  limits,  I saw,  on  the  north  side 
of  the  road,  one  hundred  acre  tracts  advertised  for 
sale,  at  a given  value.  That  land  I bought  for  my 
wife. 

In  June,  1908,  the  regiment  marched  to  Austin, 
Texas,  and  back,  on  a practice  march.  The  weather 
was  hot,  and  it  made  hard  marching,  showing  the 
advisability  of  completing  the  day’s  march  by  11 
o’clock  a.m.  whenever  practicable,  starting  earlier 
when  having  to  make  longer  marches. 

On  May  18,  1908,  a son  was  born  to  us  and  lived 
only  40  hours. 

In  the  fall  of  1908  I began  to  feel  the  hunter’s 
desire  for  outdoor  exercise.  Near  San  Antonio  there 
were  many  “Bob  White”  quail,  innumerable  small 
rabbits  and  some  ducks,  and  I went  after  that  game, 
and  on  quite  a number  of  occasions  I took  my  boys 


450 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


with  me,  making  them  shoot  almost  entirely  at  mov- 
ing objects.  As  a boy  I had  done  very  little  wing  shoot- 
ing, because  of  the  scarcity  of  ammunition,  but  such 
good  excuse  did  not  apply  to  my  boys,  and  I saw  to 
it  that  they  had  the  opportunity  for  wing  shooting 
which  I had  not  the  ammunition  to  indulge  in.  I am 
sure  that  they  were  greatly  benefited  by  it.  In  going 
to  hunt  ducks  on  Mitchell  Lake,  near  San  Antonio, 
I went  with  officers  of  the  regiment:  Leonard,  Lewis, 
Smith,  and  Welborn,  and  I hunted  quail  with 
Coleman,  who  had  been  one  of  my  9th  Immune 
captains. 

In  the  fall  of  1909  the  regiment  was  sent  to  Dallas, 
Texas,  to  take  part  in  some  exhibition  drills  and  exer- 
cises. A battery  of  field  artillery  and  a troop  of 
cavalry  also  went.  We  travelled  by  rail,  and  the  regi- 
ment unloaded  just  before  the  cavalry  did  and,  while 
the  cavalry  captain  was  sitting  on  the  fence,  or  railing, 
and  with  frequent  and  energetic  instruction  was 
supervising  the  unloading  of  his  troop  property,  one 
of  my  privates  happened  to  pass  along.  The  infantry- 
man’s attention  was  attracted  by  the  energy,  and  the 
snappy  orders  that  were  being  given  by  the  cavalry 
captain,  so  the  “doughboy”  stepped  up  to  a cavalry- 
man close  by,  and  in  low  tone  asked  him,  “Who  is 
that  guy?”  The  horseman  apparently  understood 
the  not  very  respectful  description  of  a captain  of 
regulars,  for  he  answered  just  as  quietly,  “That’s  our 
Captain.”  The  infantryman  looked  on  a little  longer, 
and  then  he  remarked,  in  the  same  quiet  tone, 
“Well!  He’s  got  our  Bookie  (Bookmiller?)  skinned 
a mile!” 

The  troops  put  up  a fine  tournament  for  about  a 
week,  and  then  we  started  home,  marching  the  first 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


451 


hundred  miles.  It  was  very  warm  weather,  and  I used 
the  opportunity  to  improve  on  my  marching  to  Austin 
the  year  before,  by  doing  more  early  starting,  and 
making  the  point  of  getting  into  camp  by  11  o’clock 
a.m.  Each  day  we  camped  at  some  town  and  gave 
the  people  some  good  music  by  our  band. 

At  Waco  we  camped  on  the  bluffs  above  the  city 
and  a great  many  people  visited  our  camp,  among 
them  being  the  President  of  Baylor  University,  Dr. 
S.  P.  Brooks.  The  Doctor  took  me,  late  in  the  after- 
noon, down  in  the  city  to  see  the  buildings  of  the  fine 
institution  of  which  my  father  was  president  for  more 
than  22  years,  and  of  which  he — Brooks — was  then 
the  president  and  a most  efficient  one. 

During  our  short  drive  in  the  Doctor’s  buggy  we 
met  a son  of  one  of  the  Burleson  brothers,  Rufus  and 
Richard,  and  I went  over  to  his  buggy  to  shake 
hands  with  him.  Rufus  Burleson  was  President  of 
Baylor  University  both  before  and  after  my  father 
who  died  in  harness,  in  February,  1885.  A brother 
of  those  distinguished  educators  was  the  eminent 
soldier,  Edward  Burleson,  whose  military  services 
against  Mexicans  and  Indians  were  of  the  highest 
character,  including  many  engagements,  and  whose 
civil  service  to  the  state  culminated  with  that  of 
Vice  President  of  the  republic. 

At  Temple  our  camp  was  hardly  pitched  when  a 
tall  boy  came  up  to  me  and  said,  “My  Ma  says  she 
wants  to  see  you.”  To  my  question  as  to  his  mother’s 
identity  the  boy  replied,  “She  was  Bettie  Johnson. 
She  married  Tom  Lipscomb,  you  know.”  I did  know, 
and  I followed  the  son  to  see  his  mother  who  had 
grown  up  before  my  eyes  when  I was  a young  man 
at  old  Independence.  I enjoyed  the  visit  very  much, 


452 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


talking  over  old  times,  and  learning  the  whereabouts 
of  many  other  friends  of  old  times. 

Later  in  the  day,  in  the  afternoon,  two  elderly 
gentlemen  walked  up  to  my  tent,  and  one  of  them 
asked,  “Are  you  Charlie  Crane?”  and  I recognized 
two  brothers,  Jerry  and  John  Stephens,  who  lived 
out  near  Gay  Hill,  a few  miles  from  my  home.  The 
pretty  daughter  of  one  of  them  was  also  in  my  camp 
at  the  same  time.  As  one  grows  older  the  greater  is 
one’s  pleasure  at  meeting  old  friends  of  long  ago,  and 
so  I found  it  during  that  trip.  In  Dallas  I had  met  my 
boyhood’s  schoolmate  and  playmate,  Andrew  Hous- 
ton, and  several  other  old  time  friends,  and  at  another 
town  it  was  Harvey  Sims,  who  studied  Latin  with 
me  at  old  Independence. 

My  son  Mitchell  had  accompanied  me  to  Dallas, 
and  he  walked  nearly  the  entire  100  miles  that  we 
marched  on  our  road  home,  which  was  good  training 
for  the  boy.  He  had  previously  gone  with  the  cavalry 
to  attend  a militia  camp  at  Austin,  and  had  ridden 
horseback  both  ways.  While  there  Mitchell  met 
Arthur  McKnight,  another  old  time  friend  of  mine. 
Arthur  lived  at  Amarillo,  and  had  furnished  the  horses 
of  one  of  the  militia  troops  at  the  camp. 

At  Dallas  I had  also  seen  again  my  mother,  and 
my  sister  Hallie. 

Later  in  the  fall  of  1909  President  Taft  and  the 
Secretary  of  War,  J.  M.  Dickinson,  came  to  Fort 
Sam  Houston,  and  the  new  chapel  was  presented  and 
accepted  during  their  short  visit.  A nice  reception 
was  given  the  presidential  party  at  the  officers’  club. 
I met  both  the  distinguished  guests,  one  at  a time. 
President  Taft  quickly  asked,  “Did  you  ever  serve 
in  Porto  Rico?”  and  then  I knew  that  he  remembered 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


453 


me  and  my  refusal  to  allow  his  former  secretary  to 
“prepare  for  himself  habitable  quarters  during  the  hot 
season,  in  the  barracks  at  Aibonito.” 

That  same  chapel  continued  for  two  years  more, 
not  quite  finished.  It  had  originally  been  donated  and 
partly  built  by  the  city  of  San  Antonio,  the  work  being 
done  under  the  supervision  of  Chaplain  Dickson  of 
the  regular  Army,  and  it  is  a fine,  imposing  edifice. 

The  test  rides  came  off  in  October,  each  year,  and 
the  Department  Commander  and  his  Chief  of  Staff 
led  about  twenty-five  officers  to  New  Braunfels  the 
first  day.  There  we  camped  in  the  beautiful  grounds 
of  Mr.  Harry  Landa,  who  also  gave  us  a fine  banquet 
down  in  the  woods  close  to  the  stream.  In  addition, 
he  allowed  us  to  use  his  commodious  bath  houses  on 
the  banks  of  the  river  where  the  water  was  clear  and 
cool.  Harry  Landa  was  the  king  of  New  Braunfels, 
and  a very  hospitable,  generous  potentate  he  was. 

The  second  day  we  rode  to  Seguin,  lunched  and 
rested  there,  and  then  returned  to  camp.  Our  ride  on 
the  third  day  carried  us  back  to  our  post.  The  first 
day  we  made  the  distance  of  thirty  miles  in  much 
less  time  than  was  required,  which  was  six  and  a half 
hours,  and  for  the  next  two  days  we  cut  off  time  from 
the  seven  and  a half  hours  allowed.  My  horse  had 
beautiful  gaits,  to  go  at  his  own  will,  but  to  be  com- 
pelled to  travel  at  another’s  will  and  at  faster  gaits 
than  Dandy’s  made  the  rides  very  fatiguing  to  me. 

The  prettiest  horse  on  either  ride  was  the  one 
ridden  by  my  mounted  orderly,  a horse  which  I had 
selected  out  of  a lot  of  40  or  50  government  horses  in 
the  corral.  The  old  corral  boss  very  highly  recom- 
mended another  horse,  and  in  the  corral  we  were 
trying  to  get  a good  look  at  it,  but  the  young  animals. 


454 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


led  by  one  more  unruly  than  the  others,  trotted  about 
following  their  leader  with  heads  and  tails  in  the  air, 
and  snorting  loudly.  After  a little  of  that  one  of  the 
horses  in  the  rear  left  the  bunch  and  slowly  and 
deliberately  walked  straight  up  to  where  we  stood  in 
the  center  of  the  pen,  stopped  close  to  us  and  seemed 
to  invite  inspection. 

The  more  I looked  at  the  animal  the  prettier  he 
became,  and,  wondering  at  the  selection  of  the  corral 
master,  I asked,  “What’s  the  matter  with  this  horse?” 

“Well,  he’s  a pretty  good  plug,”  he  replied,  “but 
he  hasn’t  much  style  about  him.” 

But,  as  I patted  and  petted  the  beautiful  red  bay 
which  was  not  a bit  afraid,  I was  convinced  that  he 
had  plenty  of  style,  and  after  riding  him  that  after- 
noon I selected  the  animal  as  my  orderly’s  mount. 
“Billy”  was  very  soon  his  name,  and  he  was  one  of 
the  prettiest  and  most  attractive  horses  I ever  saw, 
almost  the  equal  of  my  horse  “Frank”  at  Fort  Sill. 

There  were  three  horses  in  my  yard,  including 
“Pocohontas,”  a horse  I had  bought  at  a sale  of  con- 
demned cavalry  horses  for  my  son  Mitchell,  but  Billy 
was  easily  the  leader,  and  he  made  the  others  do 
exactly  as  he  wished.  After  improving  steadily  in 
value  and  good  looks  for  about  eight  months,  Billy  died 
as  the  result  of  over  exertion  in  chasing  the  other 
horses  around  the  yard  in  rear  of  my  quarters,  No.  26, 
Infantry  Post. 

On  the  morning  following  the  very  energetic  and 
violent  chasing  which  my  wife  and  I had  noticed 
about  9 o’clock  p.m.  Billy  was  stiff,  and  plainly  showed 
serious  and  painful  internal  injury.  He  lived  hardly 
long  enough  to  be  led  down  to  the  horse  hospital, 
where  he  died  in  a few  minutes. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


455 


For  our  target  practice  we  had  to  go  to  the  Leon 
Springs  Reservation,  about  23  miles  north  of  the  post. 
That  reservation  was  then  about  four  miles  by  five. 
It  is  now  considerably  enlarged,  and  furnishes  fine 
terrain  for  field  exercises,  which  we  used  to  call 
“sham  battles.”  In  July  of  1908  we  had  several 
regiments  of  Texas  militia,  and  one  from  Oklahoma,  in 
addition  to  our  regulars  from  Fort  Sam  Houston,  and 
the  several  weeks  spent  on  the  reservation  in  military 
work  were  very  enjoyable  and  instructive. 

Of  course  the  militia  came  there  to  fly  before  they 
had  learned  to  crawl,  causing  them  after  arrival  to 
waste  most  of  their  alloted  time  in  close  order  drills, 
instead  of  using  it  as  intended,  in  more  advanced 
work,  like  field  exercises  of  various  kinds  such  as 
regulars  use  in  their  more  advanced  work.  The  en- 
campment was  really  intended  for  those  advanced 
exercises,  and,  as  shown  above,  we  got  very  little  of 
the  real  purpose  of  it.  That  criticism  of  the  militia 
comes  from  every  encampment  where  regulars  and 
militia  try  to  work  together.  They  want  to  skip  the 
months  of  close  order  drills  and  begin  at  a point  which 
it  requires  months  and  years  for  regulars  to  reach. 

It  is  practically  impossible  to  keep  militia  organiza- 
tions at  the  numerical  strength  necessary  to  give 
proper  attendance  at  combined  maneuvers  and  field 
exercises,  and  the  result  is  that  companies  of  about 
half  absolutely  new  men  attend  on  such  occasions, 
making  it  impossible  to  properly  do  the  advanced 
work  intended.  Under  all  the  circumstances  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  citizen  soldiers  are  greatly  to  be  com- 
mended for  the  degree  of  efficiency  which  they  actu- 
ally manage  to  attain. 

Our  people,  with  rare  exception,  make  the  great 


456 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


mistake  of  thinking  that  a soldier  is  merely  a man 
with  a rifle  in  his  hand,  and  perhaps  wearing  a uniform. 
They  also  seem  to  imagine  that  any  fool  has  enough 
ability  to  be  an  officer,  and  that  no  special  education 
is  necessary.  The  stories  of  Lexington,  Bunker  Hill, 
King’s  Mountain  and  New  Orleans  are  wrongly 
interpreted  by  our  people,  and  wrong  lessons  are 
drawn.  Our  people  forget  that  the  officers  and  enlisted 
men  of  those  battles  were — most  of  them — seasoned 
men  of  much  experience  in  war,  and  the  best  marksmen 
of  those  times  when  the  rifle  was  much  depended 
upon  for  the  daily  ration  of  meat.  Those  men  were, 
in  a way,  disciplined  warriors,  well  instructed  and 
efficient,  and  in  addition  to  their  being  good  shots 
they  had  an  unknown  world  in  their  rear  to  which 
they  could  retreat  when  beaten  and  where  they  could 
prepare  for  another  trial  of  strength. 

Now,  once  defeated,  our  first  crowd  of  hastily 
raised  men  could  not  rally,  for  because  of  changed 
conditions  made  by  great  increase  of  population,  and 
the  disappearance  of  game  and  Indians,  our  people 
are  not  of  the  same  material  that  furnished  our  soldiers 
a hundred  years  ago,  or  even  sixty.  Few  can  shoot  a 
rifle,  and  fewer  still  can  ride  a horse. 

When  sick  we  employ  a surgeon,  or  a physician; 
in  building  a house  we  employ  regularly  trained  and 
skillful  carpenters,  bricklayers  and  plumbers.  We  get 
our  bread  from  bakers  who  have  for  years  done  that 
sort  of  work;  for  bridge  building  and  surveying  we 
search  for  skilled  men  of  much  experience  and  much 
previous  instruction.  We  pay  big  money  for  lawyers 
of  long  study  and  much  practice  to  see  us  through  an 
important  lawsuit,  and,  generally  speaking,  we  look 
for  specialists  to  do  all  our  work  which  requires 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


457 


skilled  labor.  All  the  experienced,  learned  and  skilled 
men  alluded  to  have  spent  years  and  years  in  the 
study  and  practice  of  their  trades  and  professions,  and 
we  know  that  we  must  have  just  such  men,  or  lose  out. 

But,  strange  to  say,  our  people  seem  to  see  nothing 
wrong  or  inconsistent  in  trusting  their  sons  and 
friends  to  the  ignorance  and  inexperience  of  militia 
and  volunteer  officers  who  know  so  little  of  Army  camp 
life,  or  of  handling  troops  on  the  march,  or  in  battle. 

Till  recently  no  nation  had  accepted  compulsory 
military  service  and  an  efficient  military  organization 
without  having  previously  drunk  the  bitterest  dregs 
of  defeat  and  humiliation.  Germany,  France,  Austria, 
Russia  and  Italy  have  all  had  the  experience  described, 
and  Great  Britain,  with  full  knowledge  of  what  had 
happened  to  others,  was  at  last  forced  under  most 
humiliating  conditions  to  adopt  a modified  form  of 
compulsory  military  service  during  the  Great  World 
War.  Japan’s  experience  and  humiliation  occurred 
long  ago,  when  the  war  ships  of  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States  visited  Japan,  in  the  fifties  of  the  last 
century.  She  was  quick  to  learn. 

Noted  exceptions  to  the  rule  that  terrible  necessity 
and  disaster  forced  them  to  compulsory  militarv  ser- 
vice have  been  given  by  Australia,  Argentine^  and 
Switzerland.  They  will  surely  never  regret  having 
been  wise  enough  to  learn  from  the  lessons  of  others. 

It  is  the  prayer  of  thousands  of  well  informed 
citizens  that  we  too  may  be  fortunate  enough  to  join 
the  list  of  exceptions,  and  that  we  may  so  prepare 
ourselves  by  early  military  training  at  schools,  and 
by  short  terms  of  universal  service  afterwards,  as  to 
make  it  too  difficult  and  dangerous  an  undertaking  for 
any  two  nations  to  tackle  us. 


458  . A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Bismarck  is  said  to  have  made  the  remark,  “A 
special  Providence  seems  to  look  after  the  welfare  of 
women,  infants,  idiots  and  the  United  States,”  and 
many  a time  during  my  service  in  Cuba  and  the 
Philippines  I have  heard  and  have  used  the  expression, 
“God  Almighty  is  on  our  side  again.”  But  even  God 
Almighty  may  finally  tire  of  doing  a good  thing,  and 
may  at  last  look  the  other  way  when  trouble  once 
more  threatens  the  over-confident  people  of  these 
United  States.  And  when  that  happens,  his  with- 
drawal of  special  care  over  our  nation  will  call  for 
the  exercise  of  greater  leadership  than  it  has  been  my 
good  fortune  to  observe. 

After  our  target  practice  in  1909  the  9th  Infantry 
and  some  cavalry  from  Fort  Sam  Houston  were  sent 
to  El  Paso,  Texas,  to  attend  the  meeting  of  the  dis- 
tinguished presidents  of  the  two  great  republics  of 
North  America.  I was  glad  to  get  an  opportunity  to 
see  Porfirio  Diaz.  I had  read  about  him  a great  deal, 
and  I had  for  many  years  considered  him  as  one  of 
the  greatest  rulers  of  the  world.  A man  that  can  for 
more  than  30  years  compel  the  Mexicans  to  behave 
themselves,  cannot  be  classed  otherwise  than  as 
belonging  in  the  list  of  great  men  of  all  time.  Don 
Porfirio  has  had  no  equal  in  Mexico,  and  I doubt  if 
he  ever  will.  He  finally  fell  because  he  went  back 
on  his  best  friend,  the  United  States,  and,  when 
he  signed  the  treaty  to  allow  Japan  certain  rights 
and  properties  along  the  Gulf  of  California,  he 
signed  the  warrant  for  his  own  destruction  and  down- 
fall. 

At  El  Paso  Diaz  looked  every  inch  a king,  and  a 
great  and  gracious  one.  The  9th  Infantry  took  part 
in  guarding  and  escorting  the  two  presidents  while 


IN  1913 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


459 


on  our  side  of  the  Rio  Grande,  and  many  of  us,  in 
uniform  but  unarmed,  crossed  the  river  and  walked 
about  a little  in  Juarez.  We  were  glad  when  the  entire 
affair  was  ended,  without  any  accident  or  other 
trouble  of  any  kind.  We  were  afraid  of  anarchists. 

It  seems  too  horrible  that  a man,  selected  by  his 
fellow  citizens  to  serve  as  their  ruler  for  four  years, 
should  be  compelled  to  go  about  guarded  like  a 
tyrant,  and  yet  we  know  from  the  sad  cases  of  Lincoln, 
Garfield  and  McKinley  that  such  precaution  is  ab- 
solutely necessary.  And  the  effort,  in  more  recent 
time,  upon  the  life  of  ex-President  Theodore  Roose- 
velt, proves  that  anarchists,  the  reptiles  of  modern 
society,  do  not  stop  at  present  rulers  when  they  are 
out  to  kill. 

To  some  extent  I am  a believer  in  the  law  and  justice 
of  Judge  Lynch,  for  the  reason  that  the  slow  and 
uncertain  processes  of  our  law  offer  so  many  oppor- 
tunities to  evade  just  punishment.  The  same  reason 
is  at  the  bottom  of  every  case  of  lynching.  The  people 
are  afraid  that  just  punishment  will  not  be  meted  out 
to  the  guilty  man,  and  when  just  punishment  is 
habitually  so  slow  in  coming,  the  proper  edge  and 
effect  have  disappeared,  and  the  chief  lesson  of 
punishment  fails  to  be  evident. 

The  chief  object  of  punishment  is  to  deter  others 
from  going  and  doing  likewise,  and  if  a real,  prompt 
and  just  punishment  were  sure  to  be  given  the  man 
who  has  earned  it,  there  would  be  no  lynch  law,  and 
there  would  be  exceedingly  few  killings  of  rulers,  and 
train  wrecking  and  all  sorts  of  robbing  would  practi- 
cally cease.  We  have  not  yet  made  the  punishment 
to  fit  the  crime,  and  as  a result,  our  freedom  has  too 
often  degenerated  into  license. 


460 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Again  I had  to  go  to  Oklahoma,  that  time  to  attend 
the  funeral  of  my  brother  Gordon  at  Checotah.  My 
mother  was  there,  a tower  of  strength  always. 

From  the  very  beginning  I trained  my  sons  to  look 
forward  to  service  in  the  Army,  and  I was  careful  to 
give  them  such  school  training  as  would  assist  them 
to  enter  the  United  States  Military  Academy  at 
West  Point,  New  York.  I saw  to  it  that  at  school  they 
were  instructed  in  those  branches  of  learning  most 
necessary  to  a candidate  for  entrance  at  West  Point, 
and  I also  had  them  given  special  instruction  for 
some  months  prior  to  entrance  examinations.  In 
addition,  I made  great  effort  to  get  appointments  for 
both  of  them,  without  which  all  such  preparation 
would  mean  but  little.  Once  I tried  to  see  President 
Roosevelt  regarding  Carey’s  appointment,  but  I 
could  get  no  farther  than  his  private  secretary,  Mr. 
Loeb,  but  the  result  proved  that  I lost  nothing  by 
leaving  it  to  him,  as  he  suggested. 

In  February,  1908,  the  boy  was  offered  the  appoint- 
ment, to  report  in  March,  only  a week  or  two  before 
his  17th  birthday,  and  when  I informed  the  War 
Department  regarding  my  son’s  age  the  offer  was 
withdrawn,  but  it  was  renewed  the  following  year, 
and  Carey  entered  the  Academy  in  March,  1909. 
His  special  preparation  was  given  him  by  Professor 
Kristeller,  of  San  Antonio,  during  the  two  months 
prior  to  the  examination,  which  took  place  at  Jefferson 
Barracks,  Mo.  At  that  time  the  President  appointed 
principals  and  alternates,  and,  as  indicated  by  the 
names,  the  principals  had  the  first  chance  at  the 
vacancies.  When  I saw  Mr.  Loeb  there  were  seven 
vacancies,  and  in  addition  to  the  seven  principals 
the  names  of  nine  alternates  appeared  above  the  name 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


461 


of  my  son.  However,  I had  no  doubt  that  my  boy 
would  get  one  of  the  vacancies,  which  he  did. 

In  the  fall  of  that  same  year  I sent  my  younger  son, 
Mitchell,  to  the  Virginia  Military  Institute,  at  Lexing- 
ton. That  school  has  a land  record  in  the  Civil  War 
second  only  to  that  of  our  National  Military  Academy, 
and  the  cadets  there  have  a spirit  resembling  very 
much  that  given  at  West  Point. 

With  the  departure  of  both  boys  for  distant  schools 
I knew  that  for  the  future  I would  see  very  little  of 
them.  The  graduate  of  West  Point  belongs  to  his 
country,  and  he  is  at  home  wherever  his  tent  is 
pitched,  or  where  the  “grub”  wagon  stops  for  the 
night. 

While  I was  serving  at  Fort  Sam  Houston  I received 
a letter  from  Robert  DeWare,  my  young  sergeant  in 
the  Philippines.  The  letter  was  written  from  Arizona, 
and  contained  a request  for  a written  recommendation 
from  me.  I was  glad  to  hear  again  from  DeWare,  and 
I sent  him  a good,  strong  recommendation. 

A few  months  later  my  ex-soldier  of  the  38th  Vols. 
entered  my  office.  He  was  much  taller,  broader  and 
thicker  than  he  was  in  the  islands,  and  he  retained  all 
the  good  looks  of  the  Culbersons,  which  branch  of  his 
family  he  resembled  very  much  in  appearance.  He 
was  the  handsomest  big  man  that  I ever  saw,  and 
even  more  attractive  than  when  a young  soldier. 
I was  exceedingly  glad  to  see  him. 

Robert  DeWare  died  at  Brenham,  Texas,  during 
the  winter  of  1919-1920.  I regretted  his  death  almost 
as  though  he  had  been  of  my  own  blood. 

The  many  shade  trees  at  Fort  Sam  Houston  give 
homes  to  many  birds.  Near  the  old  hospital,  in  the 
staff  post,  I saw  two  drunken  red  breasted  robins, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


one  near  the  southwest  entrance  gate,  and  the  other 
close  to  the  hospital.  Those  birds  showed  their  intoxi- 
cation as  plainly  as  possible.  I suppose  they  had  been 
eating  china  berries. 

In  the  quadrangle  one  day  I saw  a big  black  jackdaw 
teasing  a peacock  with  most  evident  enjoyment.  The 
jackdaw  would  put  himself  on  the  peacock’s  big  broad 
tail,  and  get  a free  ride.  But  the  peacock  did  not  have 
the  same  amount  of  pleasure.  It  annoyed  him  im- 
mensely. This  continued  till  I interfered. 

Down  in  the  Brackenridge  Park  where  other  pea 
fowls  were  kept  I saw  a guinea  hen  getting  free  rides 
from  a poor  pea  hen.  The  guinea  would  outrun  the 
larger  bird,  fasten  her  beak  on  the  wing  of  the  other, 
then  hang  on  by  her  bill,  feet  dragging  on  the  ground. 
This  also  continued  till  I interfered. 

Birds  seem  to  have  some  human  nature,  too. 

With  the  coming  of  the  year  1910  approached  the 
date  of  the  regiment’s  next  tour  of  duty  in  the  Philip- 
pines, and  on  March  29,  1910,  we  took  train  at  Fort 
Sam  Houston,  and  started  across  the  continent  for 
San  Francisco,  Cal. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


Our  route  was  a combination  of  the  southern 
railroads,  going  west  from  Albuquerque,  N.  M.,  so  as 
to  avoid  the  hot  part  of  Arizona  and  Southern  Cali- 
fornia. 

Following  the  general  idea  which  had  been  put  into 
effect  in  moving  my  regiment  by  rail  on  previous 
occasions  I prepared,  with  the  assistance  of  my 
adjutant,  Capt.  F.  R.  Brown,  very  complete  and 
carefully  worded  instructions,  giving  the  men  much 
freedom  and  yet  holding  them  to  strict  accountability 
for  wrong  doing.  They  were  allowed  to  get  off  the 
train  at  any  stop.  It  was  arranged  to  have  the  bugler 
sound  the  “Assembly”  five  minutes  prior  to  moving 
off.  It  required  close  understanding  with  the  railroad 
people  to  be  able  to  do  this,  but  by  continued  and 
close  attention  we  did  it,  and  as  a result,  not  a man 
was  dropped  between  San  Antonio  and  San  Francisco. 

We  arrived  at  the  latter  place  several  days  before  the 
sailing  date,  and  the  men  had  to  be  paid  off  before  leav- 
ing. Naturally  I was  quite  uneasy  as  to  the  result, 
but  I continued  the  same  kind  of  treatment  I had  been 
giving  the  men.  In  full  and  carefully  worded  orders 
the  men  were  allowed  to  consider  the  ship  as  their 
station,  or  post,  just  as  Fort  Sam  Houston  had  been, 
and  they  were  given  freedom  to  leave  the  ship  under 
the  same  conditions  and  circumstances  as  at  their 
regular  post,  making  sure  of  their  return  for  certain 


463 


464 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


duties.  Copies  of  the  order  were  furnished  in  abun- 
dance, and  it  was  made  sure  that  they  were  published 
to  the  men,  just  as  had  been  done  for  the  railroad 
travel,  so  as  to  make  sure  that  the  men  were  well 
informed  as  to  what  was  expected  of  them. 

Full  information  was  given  each  organization  as  to 
the  hour  of  sailing,  which  information  was  also  posted 
on  various  parts  of  the  ship,  so  as  to  catch  the  soldier’s 
eye  in  leaving  and  in  returning  to  the  ship.  This  hour, 
as  announced,  was  really  one  hour  in  advance  of  the 
exact  time  of  departure  intended,  and  the  intended 
hour  was  not  changed.  In  addition  to  all  this,  one 
hour  prior  to  the  announced  hour  of  departure  a non- 
commissioned officer  and  several  enlisted  men  were 
sent  out  to  the  neighboring  resorts  where  the  men  had 
been  congregating,  to  bring  in  all  slow  movers,  and 
men  under  the  influence  of  liquor.  The  result  was  a 
departure,  after  two  or  three  days  in  San  Francisco, 
including  a pay  day,  with  every  man  aboard,  and  this 
included  between  50  and  100  men  of  other  organiza- 
tions, booked  to  go  with  us  and  who  had  been  treated 
exactly  like  my  own  men.  I made  no  difference  in 
my  treatment  of  them,  and  I had  no  reason  to  regret  it. 

I commanded  the  U.  S.  Army  Transport  Sherman, 
the  same  ship  that  brought  me  home  in  1902,  and  I 
found  that,  somehow,  the  boat  had  acquired  a roll 
and  a pitch  which  I could  not  remember  as  having 
belonged  to  her  during  the  previous  trip.  We  stopped 
24  hours  at  Honolulu,  where  I allowed  the  men  the 
usual  liberties,  and  where  we  met  the  23rd  Infantry 
en  route  to  the  United  States.  That  regiment  left 
quite  a number  of  men  behind  at  Honolulu,  having 
had  a baseball  match  there,  the  men  not  knowing  the 
hour  of  departure  exactly. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


465 


We  enjoyed  our  short  stay  in  Honolulu  very  much 
indeed.  I saw  there  Major  Holbrook,  who  had  been 
my  comrade  in  the  38th  Vols.  in  the  Philippines,  and 
was  by  him  taken  around  to  see  the  interesting  points 
in  the  suburbs.  With  the  same  careful  attention  to  the 
same  details,  the  same  freedom  for  my  men  and  the 
same  methods  of  insuring  that  they  all  understood 
the  order  about  sailing,  also  the  small  guard  sent  out 
to  pick  up  and  hurry  back  the  stragglers,  we  sailed 
from  Honolulu  with  every  man  aboard  that  belonged 
with  us. 

With  the  same  methods  and  management  we  had 
the  same  good  luck  at  Guam,  where  we  stopped 
nearly  all  daylight  of  one  day.  There  the  ship  had  to 
anchor  nearly  a mile  and  a half  from  shore,  and  the 
men  had  to  take  advantage  of  various  means  to  get 
there.  I inquired  as  to  the  size  of  the  island  from  the 
naval  officers  with  whom  we  dined  in  port,  also  as  to 
the  game  on  the  island,  and,  in  spite  of  the  big  cable 
plant  there,  I got  the  idea  that  I would  not  like  to 
be  left  behind  at  Guam.  Apparently  my  men  were 
of  the  same  opinion  as  to  the  desirability  of  living  at 
Guam.  In  going  back  to  the  ship  I noticed  that  the 
men  were  hanging  close  to  the  dock,  and  they  crowded 
each  small  boat  returning  to  the  Sherman  for  hours 
before  the  time  set  for  sailing.  Some  months  after- 
wards I read  in  one  of  our  service  journals  of  the 
insanity  and  sending  back  to  the  United  States  of  one 
of  the  naval  officers  who  had  treated  us  so  kindly  at 
Guam.  Apparently  the  feeling  “so  far  from  home  and 
friends”  weighs  heavily  there,  as  at  other  similar 
places.  It  sometimes  hits  us  that  way  in  the  Philip- 
pines, too. 

Until  we  arrived  at  Honolulu  we  knew  nothing  of 


466 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


our  prospective  stations  in  the  Philippines,  and  we 
supposed  that  we  would  first  go  to  Manila,  but  at 
Honolulu  we  learned  that  the  regiment  would  be 
divided  between  Warwick  Barracks  at  Cebu,  Camp 
Downs  at  Ormoc,  Leyte,  and  Ilo  Ilo,  Panay ; in  strength 
of  six  companies,  four  companies  and  two  companies, 
respectively.  We  had  an  unusual  strength  of  officers, 
and  the  regiment  was  full  of  enlisted  men,  too.  All 
the  field  officers  were  aboard,  or  awaiting  our 
arrival. 

We  landed  first  at  Cebu,  May  2,  1910,  with  Band, 
Headquarters  and  first  six  companies  in  alphabetical 
order,  the  next  two  going  to  Ilo  Ilo,  and  the  entire 
3rd  Battalion  taking  station  at  Camp  Downs,  Leyte. 

We  had  a trip  from  San  Antonio  to  Cebu  of  which 
we  were  very  proud.  Certainly  our  experience  and 
good  fortune  were  very  unusual.  While  at  sea  I made 
it  a point  not  to  interfere  with  the  men’s  games  and 
amusements,  although  I could  plainly  see  gambling 
going  on  every  day,  as  I made  my  ship  inspection. 
Indeed,  if  I looked  for  it,  I could  see  gambling  at 
almost  any  hour  of  the  daylight. 

In  the  beginning  I had  carefully  informed  my  men 
that  I did  not  approve  of  gambling,  but  that  I did  not 
prohibit  it,  and  that  I would  be  very  sure  to  punish 
every  violation  of  regulations  and  every  trouble  that 
resulted  from  gambling.  On  that  part  of  the  decks 
allowed  the  men,  many  times  I walked  among,  or 
through  my  men  busy  at  some  form  of  gambling  in 
absolute  quiet  and  good  order.  My  only  prohibition 
was  that  no  civilian  should  be  allowed  in  the  gambling 
with  soldiers.  I did  not  have  to  interfere  on  any 
occasion,  yet  those  men  knew  that  I did  not  gamble 
and  did  not  approve  of  it.  I never  heard  of  such  an 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


467 


uneventful  trip  as  the  one  we  had  in  our  move  to  the 
islands,  as  regards  misconduct  on  the  part  of  any  one 
belonging  to  the  service. 

My  men  were  not  angels,  for  on  the  first  or  second 
night  out  from  Honolulu  a corporal  was  drunk,  and 
had  a bottle  partly  filled  with  whiskey  in  his  possession. 
Immediately  the  whiskey  was  thrown  overboard,  the 
corporal  confined  and  next  day  he  lost  his  chevrons 
by  sentence  of  Summary  Court  Martial.  On  board 
ship  the  presence  of  alcoholic  drink  is  dangerous,  and 
it  cannot  with  safety  be  allowed  in  the  hands  of  the 
men.  Of  recent  years  regulations  restricting  its  pos- 
session by  officers  on  board  ship  have  been  put  into 
effect.  Of  this,  too,  the  result  has  been  good,  and  it 
could  not  be  otherwise.  I never  allowed  whiskey  in 
my  men’s  barracks,  but  I never  prohibited  my  men 
from  drinking  it  outside.  I would  not  issue  an  order 
which  I could  not  enforce,  and  I could  not  prevent 
my  men  from  drinking  in  any  saloon  that  was  avail- 
able. However,  I held  my  men  to  strict  accountability 
for  their  conduct  after  drinking.  Drinking  does  not 
excuse  an  offence;  if  anything,  it  should  make  the 
punishment  more  severe  for  any  offence  brought  on 
by  drinking. 

Our  disembarkation  at  Cebu  was  quickly  and 
quietly  done.  Four  companies  moved  into  Warwick 
Barracks,  and  two  others  went  into  camp  at  the  target 
range  two  miles  away,  in  a cool  spot  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  backbone  of  the  island.  The  barracks  were 
built  by  the  Spaniards  many  years  ago,  and  were 
very  comfortable.  The  government  had  no  quarters 
for  officers  there,  therefore  we  lived  all  over  the 
town,  in  such  houses  as  could  be  rented  from  the 
owners.  Officers  were  allowed  to  select,  according  to 


468 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


rank,  from  a number  of  houses  which  we  were  in- 
formed were  available. 

We  relieved  Capt.  John  Howard  and  his  company 
of  the  19th  Infantry,  and  the  captain  assisted  us  very 
much  with  information  and  good  advice  based  on  a 
knowledge  of  existing  conditions.  For  my  quarters 
I selected  the  same  building  that  General  Hughes 
occupied  in  September,  1901,  when  I stopped  a week 
with  him  en  route  to  Japan  on  sick  leave.  I knew  the 
building  well,  for  I too  had  occupied  it  during  my 
week’s  stay  with  the  General,  and  I knew  it  to  be  the 
best  of  the  houses  available,  as  well  as  being  the 
closest  to  the  barracks,  being  on  the  plaza  fronting  the 
barracks,  and  adjacent  to  them  at  one  corner. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  some  of  my  officers  showed  a 
desire  to  get  away  from  barracks,  or  from  me,  but 
I considered  it  to  be  my  duty  to  be  near  those  bar- 
racks, especially  after  seeing  that  my  officers  were 
locating  themselves  so  far  away  from  their  men.  Many 
times  I congratulated  myself  on  my  selection  of 
quarters  so  near  barracks.  Many  times  I had  to  go 
out  quickly  to  my  office  in  the  afternoon,  out  of  office 
hours,  because  of  the  unexpected,  which  so  often 
happens.  I always  spent  from  9 a.m.  to  mid-day  at 
the  office,  and  in  the  afternoon  from  4 to  6,  when  I 
cleaned  up  all  unfinished  business.  It  was  my  practice 
to  complete  my  desk  work  every  day,  so  that,  prac- 
tically, there  was  no  left  over  paper  work  from  any 
day.  Many  incidents  occurred  in  the  afternoon  and 
evening  which  required  my  presence  at  the  office 
promptly,  and  my  being  so  near  was  a source  of  great 
satisfaction  to  me,  because  it  assisted  me  so  materially 
to  keep  in  touch  with  everything  going  on. 

At  Cebu  we  found  the  same  powerful  English  banks, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


469 


and  the  same  steamship  and  hemp  companies  as 
before,  and  their  representatives  and  employees  were 
very  gentlemanly  and  accommodating.  In  fact,  our 
British  friends  in  the  Orient  made  life  much  more 
pleasant  for  us  than  it  would  have  been  without  them. 
There  were  some  Spanish  firms  at  Cebu,  and  they,  too, 
were  very  kind,  and  one  or  two  American  houses  were 
struggling  upward.  Many  Chinese  were  there,  and, 
as  before,  I found  them  the  most  reliable  people  in 
the  far  east.  Our  first  morning  in  Cebu  a Chinaman 
appeared  at  my  quarters,  and  wanted  to  cook  for  us. 
He  said  that  he  had  helped  me  to  get  a cook  in  1901. 
I accepted  him,  and  he  served  us  well. 

If,  for  any  such  reason  as  sickness,  or  confinement 
in  jail  because  of  being  caught  smoking  opium,  my 
Chinese  cook  saw  that  he  could  not  prepare  our  break- 
fast, that  did  not  seem  to  interfere  with  my  household 
affairs  in  the  slightest. 

Without  my  knowledge  of  his  trouble  the  breakfast 
appeared,  the  same  as  usual,  looked  and  tasted  the 
same,  and  was  served  in  the  same  quantities.  Once 
or  twice  Mrs.  Crane  ascertained  only  by  going  to  the 
kitchen  that  we  had  a new  cook  that  morning,  because 
of  “John’s”  absence.  I always  called  my  Chinaman 
“John,”  after  learning  that  his  first  name  was  the 
same  as  mine,  and  I got  the  habit  of  calling  most  of 
them  by  that  name.  “John  Chinaman”  sounds 
natural. 

A “Mr.  Man,”  a Chinaman  from  Honolulu,  was 
the  big  groceryman,  and  he  was  also  the  Chinese  boss 
in  Cebu.  One  day  I was  buying  something  from  him 
when  he  asked  me  if  I liked  my  cook.  In  surprise  I 
told  him  that  I had  a good  Chinese  cook.  He  said  that 
he  knew  that,  but  that,  if  I had  any  trouble  with 


470 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


him,  he  (Man)  would  help  me  to  make  the  cook 
behave,  or  to  get  another  one.  He  knew  my  cook’s 
name  and  all  about  him.  On  several  occasions  he  did 
help  me  out,  and  was  very  kind  and  accommodating. 
He,  and  another  Chinese  merchant  named  “See-Sip,” 
talked  good  English,  and  allowed  their  wives  to  go 
out  on  the  streets.  In  fact,  they  brought  them  to 
call  on  us,  and  they  also  took  their  wives  to  the 
“movie”  theaters.  These  two  Chinamen  were  the 
first  in  Cebu  to  cut  their  cues  when  China  became  a 
republic  in  1911. 

My  relations  with  the  Chinese  during  my  five  years 
in  the  Orient,  in  1889  to  1902,  and  1910  to  1912,  have 
kept  in  my  mind  and  heart  very  kindly  sentiments 
towards  them.  They  were  the  people  to  whom  we  went 
for  almost  everything  in  business,  and  their  business 
manners  and  methods  pleased  me  very  much.  I 
would  tell  the  Chinaman  what  I wanted,  he  listening 
intently  with  his  head  cocked  a little  to  one  side,  and 
when  I stopped  talking  he  would  perhaps  ask  a ques- 
tion or  two  for  more  information,  and  then  he  would 
tell  me  bluntly  and  truthfully  what  he  could  and 
would  do,  and  what  he  offered  me  I usually  accepted 
as  being  the  best  that  I could  get  anywhere,  in  which 
I believe  that  I did  well.  Written  agreement  he  did 
not  care  for,  except  that  it  would  bind  the  other  man. 
He  felt  bound  by  his  word,  and  he  would  hold  to  his 
bargain  even  if  he  would  lose  money  by  so  doing.  At 
least,  I heard  that  of  the  Chinaman  more  than  once 
during  my  stay  in  the  Orient.  A Chinaman  is  not 
near  so  polite  as  the  Japanese,  but  he  is  far  more 
truthful,  honest  and  reliable,  also  more  industrious. 
Moreover,  they  are  our  friends  everywhere  in  the 
Orient. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


471 


Very  soon  after  my  arrival  at  Cebu  I learned  that 
the  native  of  that  island  had  not  improved  any  since 
my  last  duty  in  the  Philippines.  At  that  time  he  was 
considered  the  meanest  outside  of  Samar,  and  I soon 
found  that,  taking  the  police  as  fair  representatives  of 
the  people,  they  were  still  just  as  mean,  and  in  need 
of  good  killing  as  we  had  known  them  to  be  during 
our  first  tour  of  duty  there.  In  September,  1901,  I 
tried  to  persuade  General  Hughes  not  to  listen  to 
their  leaders  when  they  came  in  to  talk  “surrender,” 
telling  the  General  that  we  had  not  then  whipped 
those  people  sufficiently  to  make  them  willing  to 
behave  themselves  as  American  subjects.  Nothing  but 
more  defeating  and  killing  of  their  leaders  would  have 
properly  pacified  Cebu,  and  the  island  did  not  receive 
that  chastisement,  with  the  natural  consequence. 

We  soon  saw  the  temper  of  the  Cebu  police;  they 
were  ready  and  quick  to  arrest  an  American  soldier 
on  the  slightest  pretence,  and  if  the  pretence  were 
hard  to  find  they  proved  that  it  was  unnecessary,  for 
the  soldier  would  be  arrested,  confined  and  then 
informed  that  he  had  resisted  arrest,  and  that  a cash 
bond  was  needed  for  his  future  appearance  for  trial. 
Sometimes  the  poor  soldier  would  produce  the  cash 
bond,  and  then,  of  course  the  matter  would  be  dropped. 
As  soon  as  I learned  of  such  methods  I ordered  my 
men  not  to  produce  the  cash  bond,  but,  instead,  to 
promptly  inform  their  captain  who  was  in  the  same 
order  directed  to  represent  the  soldier  as  his  lawyer 
and  fight  it  out  in  court.  On  several  occasions  during 
the  two  years  of  our  stay  in  Cebu,  in  person  I repre- 
sented my  men  before  the  civil  courts,  and  saw  to  it 
that  they  got  at  least  a trial  and  that  always  resulted 
in  an  acquittal,  because  the  police  usually  had  no 


472 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


case  and  were  only  trying  to  get  a cash  bond  from  the 
soldier.  Any  American,  especially  a stranger,  was 
liable  to  the  treatment  described. 

We  had  an  American  Judge  of  the  Court  of  First 
Instance,  but  from  my  acquaintance  with  him  and 
from  what  I heard  of  him,  I thought  that  the  United 
States  was  very  poorly  represented  in  the  Cebu  judici- 
ary. That  gentleman  was  not  the  only  American  judge 
in  the  islands  who  did  not,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Army, 
measure  up  to  the  proper  average. 

The  celebrated  Grafton  case,  settled  in  the  U.  S. 
Supreme  Court  several  years  prior  to  that  date,  had 
given  an  American  Judge  of  the  Court  of  First  Instance 
an  opportunity  to  overrule  the  acquittal  of  Private 
Grafton  by  a General  Court  Martial,  and  to  impose, 
instead,  practically  a life  imprisonment  in  Bilibid 
Prison,  the  old  Manila  Prison  of  the  Spaniards.  The 
Supreme  Court  decided  that  the  poor  devil  had  been 
sufficiently  tried  by  the  military  authorities,  and  was 
therefore  not  liable  or  subject  afterwards  to  trial  by 
any  other  court  deriving  its  jurisdiction  from  the  same 
authority  (the  United  States).  In  the  Philippines 
the  same  authority — the  United  States — gives  juris- 
diction to  both  Army  Courts  Martial  and  Philippine 
Courts  of  First  Instance,  therefore,  a man  once  tried 
by  either  class  of  court  for  any  offence  is  not  subject 
to  trial  by  the  other  for  that  same  offence,  and  that 
authority,  whether  civil  or  military,  which  first  estab- 
lished jurisdiction  over  any  case,  should  be  allowed  to 
complete  trial  and  punishment,  or  acquittal. 

In  order  to  prevent  so  many  arrests,  and  to  inform 
my  men  as  to  their  rights,  I studied  up  the  Grafton 
case,  and  then  I issued  the  following  order,  which  was 
passed  upon — at  my  request — by  the  Judge  Advocate 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


473 


of  the  Division  of  the  Philippines,  and  by  him  pro- 
nounced to  be  sound  and  correct  in  law.  I had  it 
published  in  Manila  newspapers,  and  it  did  much 
good  in  the  islands  where  the  police  were  like  those 
at  Cebu. 


Warwick  Barracks,  Cebu,  P.  I. 
June  30,  1910. 


General  Orders 

No.  34. 

In  view  of  the  too  frequent  instances  of  friction 
between  the  American  soldier  and  the  police  of  Cebu, 
it  is  considered  necessary  to  inform  the  soldier  as  to 
his  rights  and  his  proper  line  of  conduct. 

The  following  extract  from  the  opinion  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  in  the  case  of 
Homer  E.  Grafton  versus  the  United  States,  given 
May  27th,  1907,  is  of  unusual  importance  to  the 
soldier  serving  in  these  islands. 

“If,  therefore,  a person  be  tried  for  an  offense  in  a 
tribunal  deriving  its  jurisdiction  and  authority  from 
the  United  States  and  is  acquitted  or  convicted,  he 
cannot  again  be  tried  for  the  same  offense  in  another 
tribunal  deriving  its  jurisdiction  and  authority  from 
the  United  States.” 

This  means  that  a soldier  who  may  be  tried  before  a 
military  tribunal,  or  before  a regular  tribunal  of  these 
islands,  cannot  be  tried  for  the  same  offense  before 
the  other  tribunal. 

The  authority  which  first  begins  legal  process  look- 
ing to  trial  has  first  claim  on  the  soldier. 

To  secure  military  control  of  the  case  the  arrest  or 
confinement  of  the  accused  by  an  officer  or  non- 
commissioned officer  would  be  sufficient,  the  investi- 
gation and  trial  to  follow  in  due  course,  under  the 
decision  given  by  the  Judge  Advocate  General  of  the 
Army,  August  13,  1908,  and  published  in  General 
Orders  No.  10  of  1909,  Philippines  Division,  “That 
(Court)  which  first  assumes  jurisdiction  by  the  service 


474 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


of  process,  is  entitled  to  continue  until  final  judgment 
and  execution  of  sentence.” 

Therefore,  in  order  to  retain  control  over  our  own 
men,  and  to  save  them  from  civil  arrest  and  confine- 
ment which  will  deprive  the  Government  of  their 
services  as  soldiers,  it  is  made  the  duty  of  every 
officer  and  non-commissioned  officer  who  sees,  or  is 
cognizant  of  a disturbance  taking  place  between 
soldiers,  or  between  soldiers  and  natives,  to  promptly 
arrest  the  soldier  implicated  and  have  him  taken  to  the 
barracks,  going  in  person  with  him  to  insure  safe 
delivery  of  the  soldier  at  barracks.  The  Command- 
ing Officer  will  then  be  notified  without,  delay  as  to 
what  has  happened,  and  the  soldier  will  afterwards  be 
tried  before  a military  tribunal. 

The  arrest  of  the  soldier,  the  speaking  of  the  words 
placing  him  in  arrest,  is  sufficient  to  insure  military 
control  over  the  trial  of  his  case,  and  he  will  not,  after 
the  arrest  or  speaking  of  the  wTords  of  arrest,  be  sur- 
rendered to  any  police  or  civil  officers  who  may 
demand  him. 

The  officer  or  non-commissioned  officer  who  shall 
have  made  this  prior  or  first  arrest  of  the  soldier,  will, 
on  the  attempt  of  the  civil  officer  to  take  charge  of  the 
soldier  in  question,  politely  and  firmly  inform  such 
officer  that  the  military  authorities  have  already 
assumed  jurisdiction  of  the  case,  and  will  not  surrender 
the  soldier. 

The  exercise  of  great  coolness  of  judgment  to  be 
performed  in  all  sobriety,  is  specially  enjoined  upon 
such  officer,  or  non-commissioned  officer. 

The  case  will  be  completed  before  our  own  military 
court,  and  much  hardship  will  be  saved  the  soldier, 
and  his  time  will  not  be  lost  to  the  Government  by  the 
action  of  the  civil  authorities. 

This  order  will  be  kept  posted  on  bulletin  boards 

By  order  of  Colonel  Crane: 

(Signed)  F.  R.  Brown, 

Captain  & Adjutant  9th  Infantry. 

Adjutant. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


475 


Very  soon  the  police  of  Cebu  caught  on  to  the  idea  of 
promptly  establishing  jurisdiction  in  a case,  and  they 
would  sometimes  claim  to  have  been  the  first  to  make 
the  arrest  when  such  was  not  the  truth,  and  on  two  oc- 
casions they  insisted  on  having  the  soldier  after  being  in- 
formed that  he  was  already  in  confinement  under  mili- 
tary authority  and  that  the  necessary  charges  had  been 
preferred.  In  both  cases  the  men  were  not  given  up. 

The  Philippines  were  still  being  governed  chiefly 
under  the  old  Spanish  laws,  supplemented  by  laws 
passed  by  U.  S.  Commissioners  at  Manila,  and  no 
amount  of  search  among  the  old  Spanish  laws  could 
discover  any  circumstances  justifying  a man  in  killing 
another.  No  such  justification  as  “self-defence”  was 
recognized  by  them.  And  there  was  no  such  thing  as 
“burglary,”  justifying  the  owner,  or  dweller  in  a house 
in  physically  injuring  a burglar.  According  to  Spanish 
law  the  man  who  had  entered  one’s  house  was  punish- 
able only  for  what  he  had  already  laid  hands  on  in 
theft.  He  was  to  be  treated  simply  as  a thief,  and  was 
held  to  be  punishable  only  in  proportion  to  the  amount, 
or  value  of  the  property  in  his  possession  when  caught. 
And  burglary  became  too  common  in  Cebu,  where 
the  houses  are  so  open  as  to  make  burglary,  as  we 
understand  the  meaning  of  the  word,  very  easy.  One 
or  two  instances  of  fact  will  illustrate  better;  the  sto- 
ries are  given  as  I heard  them. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  a man  was  waked  up  by 
his  own  chickens,  in  his  own  yard.  With  his  small 
calibre  rifle  he  stepped  to  the  open  window  and 
listened,  and  having  accurately  located  the  noise  he 
fired  at  it.  The  thief,  an  old  native  woman,  was 
wounded  in  the  jaw,  and  the  man  was  sentenced  to 
confinement  in  Bilibid  for  several  years. 


476 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


On  another  occasion,  an  old  Filipino  discovered  two 
thieves  in  the  act  of  driving  off  two  of  his  carabaos. 
Naturally  he  tried  to  make  them  leave  his  animals, 
and  finding  peaceful  methods  without  result  he  used 
a club,  and  in  doing  so  he  killed  one  of  the  thieves, 
and  drove  off  the  other.  The  man  wdio  protected  his 
own  property  so  well  was  sentenced  to  many  years  in 
Bilibid. 

With  hostile  police,  thieving  neighbors,  and  laws 
which  did  not  protect,  our  only  refuge  was  the 
Grafton  case  and  the  chance  of  getting  the  unfortunate 
American  promptly  confined  under  military  guard,  to 
be  followed  up  by  prompt  trial  before  a military 
court.  Therefore  I published  another  order,  urging 
each  man  in  the  military  service  who  had  any  trouble 
with  natives,  or  with  the  civil  authorities,  to  hurry 
and  deliver  himself  up  to  the  military  authority,  so 
as  to  get  the  benefit  of  trial  by  a military  court,  an 
American  court.  In  my  order  I alluded  to  the  queer 
old  Spanish  laws  mentioned. 

As  long  as  we  remained  in  Cebu  we  had  trouble 
with  the  civil  authorities  as  represented  by  the  native 
police  and  native  justices  of  the  peace.  But,  the 
British,  the  Chinese  and  the  Spanish  were  always 
nice  to  us,  especially  the  first  two  named.  When  the 
British  gave  an  entertainment,  our  people  were  sure 
to  be  invited,  and  we  always  enjoyed  ourselves.  The 
Chinese  and  Spanish  also  invited  us  to  their  enter- 
tainments and  gave  us  an  enjoyable  time. 

We  had  not  been  long  at  Cebu  before  the  Division 
and  Department  Commanders  paid  us  a visit,  and 
they  arrived  the  same  morning,  to  our  great  discom- 
fort and  annoyance.  However,  the  Department  Com- 
mander took  a back  seat  and  gave  us  little  trouble, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


477 


leaving  us  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Division  Com- 
mander who  seemed  to  imagine  himself  still  a cadet 
corporal  inspecting  a “plebe”  relief  of  the  guard. 
The  condition  of  the  barracks  as  regarded  cleanliness 
attracted  little  of  his  attention,  but  hooks  and  eyes, 
buttons  and  long  hair  came  in  for  close  inspection 
and  sure  condemnation.  Before  he  left,  a squad  of 
nine  soldiers  reported  at  my  quarters  to  the  Division 
Commander  with  the  shortest  and  quickest  hair  cuts 
that  I have  ever  seen  on  soldiers’  heads.  Only  the 
clipper  had  been  used.  I telegraphed  over  to  Camp 
Downs,  Leyte,  to  warn  our  people  there  to  beware  of 
close  inspection  for  missing  and  unhooked  hooks, 
missing  and  unbuttoned  buttons,  and  long  hair.  Thus 
warned,  the  garrison  at  Camp  Downs  escaped  some 
of  our  misfortunes,  but  they  too  had  to  entertain  at 
the  same  time  both  Division  and  Department 
Commanders. 

During  our  first  summer  at  Cebu,  in  August,  the  Sec- 
retary of  War,  Jacob  McG.  Dickinson,  visited  our  post 
on  a trip  of  inspection  around  the  islands.  He  arrived 
just  one  day  after  the  coming  of  the  Division  Inspector 
who  was  also  on  his  annual  tour  of  inspection.  These 
two  formidable  officials  inspected  us  on  the  same  days, 
yet  independent  of  each  other,  and  it  made  it  very 
difficult  for  us  to  present  our  best  side  to  the  inspector 
who  was  really  the  man  to  please  and  be  afraid  of,  for 
he  submitted  a careful  and  critical  report,  as  we  dis- 
covered, later  on.  The  weather  was  hot,  and  one 
appearance  was  enough  to  make  the  khaki  clothing 
of  the  soldier  unpresentable  for  the  Inspector  a few 
hours  later,  and  some  of  our  men  did  not  have  a 
sufficient  number  of  changes  of  uniform  to  be  able  to 
appear  each  time  in  fresh  clothing.  This  was  the 


478 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


only  inspection  of  the  9th  Infantry  during  my  colo- 
nelcy of  it  when  we  did  not  receive  nice  commenda- 
tions from  the  inspector,  and  it  was  easily  because 
of  the  presence  of  the  Secretary  of  War  at  the  same 
time. 

Before  the  Secretary  left  he  was  given  a great  ban- 
quet by  the  Chinese  merchants  of  Cebu,  and  our 
friend  See-Sip  was  their  orator  for  the  occasion.  I 
took  Mrs.  Crane  with  me  to  the  banquet,  and  next 
day  we  remembered  it,  because  of  the  queer  dishes 
that  Chinese  love,  such  as  birds’  nests  soup  and 
unhatched  pigeons’  eggs. 

As  commanding  officer  I had  given  the  Secretary 
our  best  military  reception,  but  we  had  to  do  that 
sort  of  thing  for  each  department  and  division  com- 
mander that  came  along,  and  my  wife  became  quite 
expert  at  getting  up  the  necessary  refreshments.  So, 
our  reception  for  Secretary  Dickinson  was  just  like 
many  others  that  we  gave  during  my  colonelcy  of 
the  9th  Infantry. 

Cebu  was  in  many  respects  a very  desirable  station. 
The  best  fruits  grew  there,  and  fish  and  vegetables 
were  very  abundant.  The  finest  mangos  in  the  Philip- 
pines, and  best  papayas  grew  all  around  the  city. 
It  was  also  the  island  longest  inhabited  by  the  Span- 
iards, and  for  that  reason  game  was  very  scarce  for 
lack  of  cover.  But  there  was  sometimes  good  snipe 
shooting  near  the  town,  and  on  several  occasions  I 
had  to  go  only  a mile  or  two  for  bags  of  between  20 
and  30  of  these  fine  birds.  Snipe  shooting  in  open 
country  and  not  too  much  water  is  certainly  delightful 
sport,  and  my  two  years  at  Cebu  were  made  more 
endurable  by  the  many  hunts  I enjoyed  there,  without 
going  more  than  five  miles  from  my  quarters.  Wei- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


479 


born,  Lewis  and  Whitson  were  my  hunting  companions 
when  we  went  for  snipe,  but  I hunted  with  Lewis 
more  than  with  the  others. 

While  out  snipe  hunting  I sometimes  flushed  the 
tiny  quail  of  the  islands,  which  I have  seen  nowhere 
else,  and  I had  good  luck  in  bringing  down  the  little 
fellows,  for  they  are  no  larger  than  sparrows.  But  the 
whir-r-r  of  their  wings  was  a dead  give-away  of  their 
identity,  giving  me  also  a good  opportunity  to  shoot. 
Curlews  were  also  to  be  found  in  the  vicinity  of  Cebu, 
and  several  varieties  of  pigeons,  but  they  were  hard 
to  find.  One  of  the  wild  pigeons  had  a yellow  body 
and  greenish  neck,  and  another  had  the  long  tail  of 
the  passenger  pigeon,  and  uniform  coloring  of  dark 
maroon.  The  maroon  colored  pigeon  was  the  only 
long  tailed  one  that  I ever  saw,  except  the  passenger 
pigeon  and  the  turtle  dove.  The  latter  is  not  to  be 
found  in  the  Philippines. 

The  troops  stationed  at  Camp  Downs  had  good 
duck  and  wild  hog  hunting,  and  better  snipe  hunting 
than  we  did  at  Cebu.  But  I had  no  opportunity  to  do 
any  hunting  outside  of  Cebu. 

The  test  ride  in  the  islands  was  only  for  20  miles, 
for  three  days  and  at  the  same  rate  of  speed  as  was 
required  in  the  United  States.  I had  Lieut.  Lewis 
measure  off  five  miles  along  the  best  road  leading  out 
from  Cebu,  and  in  December,  1910,  with  Lieut.  Col. 
C.  E.  Woodruff,  M.  C.,  and  Major  Waldo  E.  Ayer, 
9th  Infantry,  I had  my  first  test  ride  from  Cebu.  I 
had  quite  a difficulty  in  persuading  the  two  young 
medical  officers  on  the  examining  board  to  allow  me 
to  ride  it.  On  the  preliminary  examination  they 
claimed  to  have  found  something  unusual  about  my 
heart  action,  but  after  my  explanation  that  another 


480 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


examination  could  be  made  after  the  riding  of  the 
first  ten  miles  they  consented  to  allow  me  to  ride. 

The  examination  after  the  completion  of  the  first 
ten  miles  showed  me  in  better  condition,  as  stated  by 
the  young  surgeons,  so  I continued  the  ride.  At  the 
end  of  the  three  days’  ride  my  physical  condition  was 
pronounced  to  be  still  better.  I had  improved  daily 
and  steadily.  But,  noticing  that  the  report  of  the  test 
rides  did  not  arrive  at  my  office  promptly  I made  a 
social  call  on  the  young  surgeons  on  the  night  of  the 
third  day.  I was  greeted  on  entering  their  room 
with,  “Glad  to  see  you;  you  are  the  very  man  we 
wanted  to  see.” 

I understood  their  trouble,  and  without  trying  to 
beat  about  the  bush  I asked,  “Is  it  something  about 
the  test  ride?” 

“Yes,”  they  replied,  “and  we  want  you  to  resolve 
our  doubts.” 

Finding  that  their  doubts  were  as  to  my  ability  to 
stand  field  service,  I explained  to  them  the  difference 
between  the  physical  requirements  in  field  service  for 
a lieutenant  and  for  a colonel,  and  I informed  them 
of  my  daily  rides  of  about  six  miles  before  breakfast, 
and  of  my  hunting  once  a week,  besides. 

After  much  talking  about  myself  I had  to  similarly 
explain  regarding  Col.  Woodruff,  and  after  a most 
humiliating  experience  of  arguing  for  an  hour  with 
two  young  lieutenants  of  the  Medical  Corps,  I was 
finally  given  to  understand  that  the  reports  would  be 
satisfactory.  Accordingtotheir  reports,  which  were  sub- 
mitted next  morning,  we  were  both  allowed  to  continue 
performing  our  duty  without  the  action  of  a retiring 
board.  In  their  report  on  me  was  the  entry,  according 
to  my  recollection  “Incipient  arterio  sclerosis.” 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


481 


My  daily  life  at  Cebu  for  two  years  began  with  my 
rising  at  about  5.30  a.m.,  riding  from  four  to  seven 
miles,  sometimes  ten,  then  a bath  followed  by  break- 
fast at  8 a.m.  I was  always  hungrier  for  breakfast  than 
for  any  other  meal,  and  I enjoyed  most  what  I ate 
then.  All  this  I had  to  explain  to  those  boys  in  order 
to  be  allowed  to  remain  on  the  active  list  a little 
while  longer. 

We  lived  well  at  Cebu.  Through  the  Commissary 
we  obtained  good  refrigerated  beef  and  mutton  from 
Australia,  and  oranges,  lemons,  apples  and  grape  fruit 
from  the  United  States.  We  had  the  mango  for  about 
ten  months  each  year,  having  that  fruit  eleven 
months  one  year.  We  had  bananas  and  papayas  all 
the  time.  While  cocoanuts  were  abundant  all  the 
time  we  never  ate  one,  but  when  out  in  the  field,  or 
on  the  road,  and  hot,  tired  and  thirsty,  no  drink  was 
so  refreshing  as  that  of  the  nearly  grown  cocoanut, 
taken  from  the  fruit  itself,  without  waiting  to  pour 
the  water  into  a tumbler. 

At  9 a.m.  I went  to  my  office  and  remained  there 
till  12,  mid-day,  and  I returned  there  about  4 p.m. 
for  a couple  of  hours,  and  sometimes  longer,  to  com- 
plete the  paper  work  of  the  day,  it  being  my  invariable 
rule  to  leave  no  official  paper  work  for  the  following 
day.  Frequently  my  afternoon  office  hours  were  very 
necessary  for  the  settling  of  cases  arising  suddenly 
with  the  natives  and  police. 

As  a rule  officers  wore  their  white  uniforms  in  the 
afternoons  and  at  night,  especially  at  entertainments. 
At  night  we  usually  remained  at  home,  if  not  invited 
out  somewhere,  and  we  made  it  a point  to  have,  once 
a year,  each  officer  and  lady  dine  with  us.  This  prac- 
tice we  continued  till  retirement  from  active  service. 


482 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


with  all  who  were  in  the  post  long  enough  to  enable 
us  to  carry  out  our  intention.  The  receptions  which 
we  gave  to  department  commanders  and  other  gener- 
als, also  those  which  I gave  as  Commanding  officer 
on  each  New  Year’s  Day,  complete  our  contribution 
to  the  social  life  of  the  garrison  wherever  we  hap- 
pened to  be. 

Cebu  was  the  second  city  in  size  in  all  the  Philip- 
pines, counting  Ilo  Ilo,  Molo  and  Jaro  as  separate 
cities,  and  it  was  beyond  doubt  the  second  in  shipping, 
being  the  greatest  hemp  center  in  the  Philippines. 
Doubtless,  being  such  a commercial  city  Cebu  was 
constantly  visited  by  our  inter-island  steamers  in 
their  trips  from  Manila  to  the  southern  islands  of  the 
archipelago,  and  thus  was  visited  by  a great  many 
army  people,  both  because  of  the  trip  and  because  they 
frequently  could  not  avoid  it.  In  this  way  we  saw, 
while  at  Cebu,  many  of  our  army  friends,  renewing 
sometimes  old  friendships,  and  in  other  cases  begin- 
ning new  ones.  Many  strangers  hunted  up  the  monu- 
ment of  Magallanes,  or  Magellan,  on  the  island  of 
Mactan  immediately  in  front  of  the  city,  where  the 
old  time  “conquistador”  fell  in  battle,  and  others 
looked  for  the  small  building  which  marked  the  spot 
where  Magallanes  was  said  to  have  held  the  first 
mass  in  the  Philippines. 

For  the  purpose  of  evening  up  the  camp  duty  at  the 
target  range  and  to  do  the  required  amount  of  target 
practice,  no  organizations  were  made  to  stay  in  camp 
more  than  two  months.  It  was  cooler  there. 

In  January,  1911,  the  U.  S.  Transport  Warren  came 
to  Cebu  and  Camp  Downs  and  Ilo  Ilo,  and  picked  up 
nine  companies  of  the  regiment  for  an  expedition 
against  the  island  of  Guimaras,  on  one  of  our  field 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


483 


maneuvers.  One  company  was  left  at  each  of  the 
three  posts,  and  we  steamed  through  the  strait,  or 
channel  separating  Guimaras  from  Panay.  En  route, 
while  inspecting  the  transport  I saw  my  old  time 
Chinese  cook  Lao  in  the  pie  room.  The  recognition 
was  mutual,  also  the  pleasure  at  meeting.  Lao  had 
seen  all  the  Asiatic  ports  as  cook  on  various  ships. 

We  were  some  miles  beyond  the  strait  when,  at 
the  appointed  hour,  9 p.m.,  I opened  my  sealed  orders 
and  learned  that  I was  to  land  on  the  island  of  Gui- 
maras at  least  fifteen  miles  from  the  Army  post  on 
that  island,  Camp  Jossman,  and  then  proceed  against 
the  garrison  of  that  post.  Prior  to  going  on  that  trip 
I was  allowed  to  send  an  officer  on  a two  or  three  days’ 
reconnaissance  of  the  island,  so  as  to  ascertain  the 
different  landing  places,  and  the  trails  leading  from 
them  towards  Camp  Jossman. 

From  that  hurried  reconnaissance,  made  by  Second 
Lieutenant  Russell  James,  I learned  that  there  were 
three  places  where  I could  land  and  march  inland. 
The  nearest  and  most  convenient  of  the  three  was 
just  fifteen  miles  from  Camp  Jossman  and  located  on 
the  side  facing  Panay.  The  next  in  going  around  the 
far  end  of  the  island  was  at  its  farthest  extremity,  at 
a spot  called  Igdaropdop.  The  third  possible  landing 
place  was  on  the  opposite  side  from  Panay,  and 
located  about  fifteen  miles  from  Jossman.  The  third 
landing  place  had  no  known  trails  leading  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  post,  while  both  the  others  had  bold  trails, 
often  used. 

The  first  mentioned  landing  place  was  so  closely 
connected  with  Camp  Jossman  and  so  well  known  that 
I was  confident  that  my  opponent  would  give  it  special 
attention.  It  was  so  near  to  Jossman  that  I thought 


484 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


it  possible,  not  knowing  the  “Special  Situation” 
given  to  him,  that  he  might  have  time  to  put  his  men 
in  good  position  near  the  landing  place  itself.  I 
therefore  selected  the  farthest  of  the  three  landing 
places  for  my  landing  point,  and  I have  had  no  reason 
to  doubt  the  soundness  of  my  judgment  in  doing  so. 
Having  to  go  in  close  to  the  island,  at  a point  so  little 
known,  except  from  the  ship’s  charts  which  leave  many 
things  to  the  imagination,  I believed  it  impossible,  at 
least  inadvisable,  to  attempt  a night  disembarkation 
of  troops,  animals  and  supplies.  I contented  myself 
with  having  the  Warren  go  in  as  close  to  the  shore  as 
we  dared,  and  then  waited  for  very  early  morning. 

During  the  night  we  drifted  many  miles,  and  early 
in  the  morning  it  required  about  two  hours  to  get  us 
to  our  landing  point  about  four  hundred  yards  from 
the  shore.  We  had  quite  a large,  flat  barge  to  put  our 
animals  on,  after  using  it  in  landing  our  men  and 
baggage.  The  barge  could  not  get  in  close  enough  to 
enable  horses  to  get  ashore  without  swimming,  so  the 
animals  had  to  be  pushed  off  and  made  to  swim  for  it. 

Under  the  rules  of  the  maneuver  furnished  us,  all 
advance  movements  had  to  end  at  12,  mid-day,  at 
which  moment  each  side  was  allowed  to  consolidate 
positions  won  prior  to  that  hour.  The  island  was 
covered  with  dense  tropical  growth  of  timber,  bushes 
and  foliage,  and  a rough  ridge  about  one  hundred  feet 
high  ran  parallel  to  the  water,  and  several  hundred 
yards  from  it  in  the  vicinity  of  our  landing  place. 
Therefore  it  was  necessary  to  land  and  get  to  a camp- 
ing place  before  12  o’clock,  and  to  have  our  men  on 
high  ground  commanding  the  camp.  Landing  was 
slow  work,  and  finally  I had  to  hurry  ashore  after 
11  o’clock,  saddle  up,  and  gallop  off  with  Lieut.  James 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


485 


and  five  or  six  mounted  orderlies,  to  find  the  place 
the  Lieutenant  had  marked  for  our  first  camp,  about 
two  miles  away. 

We  found  the  spot,  and  five  minutes  before  12 
o’clock  I had  my  outpost  located  on  a high  point 
commanding  the  approach  to  our  camp  from  the 
inland.  Then  we  waited  an  hour  or  two  for  the  men 
to  come  on  and  pitch  camp.  We  were  28  or  29  miles 
from  Camp  Jossman,  and  I was  sure  that  the  troops 
of  the  garrison  were  somewhere  between  Jossman  and 
the  convenient  landing  place  facing  the  island  of 
Panay,  and  in  a good  position  for  defence  against  an 
enemy  attempting  a landing  near  them. 

About  the  middle  of  the  island  of  Guimaras  there 
are  some  high  hills,  which  appeared  to  us  to  be  com- 
paratively clear  and  open.  The  road  from  my  camp 
to  where  I believed  the  enemy  to  be  led  through 
dense  and  difficult  country,  but  the  road,  or  series  of 
trails  from  my  camp  to  Jossman,  passing  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hills  from  my  estimated  location  of  the 
enemy,  was  across  a comparatively  open  country, 
where  we  could  see  some  distance  ahead  and  could 
select  at  will  our  line  of  march,  and  even  our  place 
to  fight,  and  make  the  enemy  come  to  us. 

For  those  reasons  I did  not  go  straight  at  the 
enemy,  but  instead,  I pushed  on  by  trails  and  some- 
times without  a trail  across  country  which  we  found 
to  be  as  represented  by  Lieut.  James,  and  reached  a 
small  village  near  the  center  of  the  island  where  we 
drove  off  some  mounted  scouts  of  the  other  side,  and 
lost  much  time  in  doing  so,  and  still  more  in  looking 
for  the  right  trail  to  follow  on  towards  Jossman. 

We  had  to  go  into  camp  there  because  12  o’clock 
would  have  caught  us  at  some  spot  where  we  could 


486 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


not  have  made  a good  camp.  We  had  a fine  camping 
place,  and  there,  as  at  the  previous  camp,  we  took  all 
the  necessary  precautions  relative  to  outposts,  etc. 
Early  that  night  the  “observer”  from  the  other  side 
walked  into  my  camp,  thus  showing  that  I had  located 
his  camp  pretty  well.  He  came  from  that  direction. 
After  he  had  consulted  with  the  “observer”  who 
travelled  with  us,  we  were  given  another  “special 
situation,”  one  which  required  us  to  march  straight 
towards  the  best  landing  place  and  “pursue  the 
retreating  enemy,”  thus  showing  again  that  we  had 
correctly  located  the  opposing  troops  and  their  pur- 
pose. Next  morning  we  took  up  the  trail  indicated  by 
the  observers,  and  we  found  the  enemy  exactly  where 
our  map  showed  they  ought  to  be,  and  we  had  a nice 
little  battle  there. 

We  had  our  20  mounted  scouts,  commanded  by 
Lieut.  James,  well  out  to  the  front,  and  our  march 
led  through  some  very  pretty  country,  the  long  col- 
umn moving  just  as  we  had  learned  to  move  and 
march  in  the  Philippines  jungle.  It  was  very  realistic, 
but  I hope  that  I may  never  have  to  fight  an  enter- 
prising enemy  under  any  such  conditions.  We  found 
them,  with  hastily  made  shelter  trenches,  blocking 
the  way,  their  left  resting  on  foot  hills  which  rapidly 
rose  to  higher  elevations,  and  their  right  flank  resting 
on  impenetrable  jungle. 

Major  C.  R.  Noyes  handled  beautifully  his  battalion 
in  the  lead.  I had  divided  the  nine  companies  of  my 
force  into  three  equal  battalions,  so  that  Noyes  had 
only  three  companies.  He  had  two  companies  in  the 
firing  line,  and  the  third  one  acting  as  support  or 
reserve  a short  distance  to  the  rear.  His  people  made 
lots  of  noise  with  their  blank  cartridges,  only  two 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


487 


companies  firing.  The  enemy  remained  on  the 
defensive  while  I was  moving  at  the  head  of  six  com- 
panies off  to  our  right  so  as  to  get  well  around  the 
enemy’s  left  flank  for  the  purpose  of  attacking  his 
left  and  rear  from  higher  ground. 

When  I had  arrived  opposite  his  left  flank  and  could 
see  something  of  his  arrangements  on  that  flank,  I 
heard  the  “recall”  sounded  from  the  other  side  where 
the  Chief  Umpire  was.  We  were  moving  well  concealed 
by  the  rough  ground  and  dense  jungle,  and,  so  far 
as  I ever  heard,  our  march  was  not  perceived  by  the 
enemy.  When  I heard  the  “recall”  I halted  the 
column  and  hastily  returned  to  the  trail  to  learn  why 
it  had  been  sounded. 

The  Chief  Umpire  informed  me  that  the  recall  had 
been  sounded  because  it  was  useless  for  me  to  proceed 
any  further,  for  the  reason  that  I had  all  my  men 
engaged,  in  one  frontal  attack  on  an  intrenched 
enemy,  well  posted.  I told  the  Chief  Umpire  that  I 
had  only  two  companies  in  the  firing  line,  one  com- 
pany of  that  battalion  being  held  back  in  reserve,  and 
that  with  my  main  body  of  six  companies  I had 
started,  and  was  at  least  two  hundred  yards  from  the 
trail,  moving  out  of  sight  of  the  enemy,  and  in  direc- 
tion so  as  to  envelope  his  left  flank  and  rear. 

I believed  then,  and  I still  believe,  that  the  scheme 
was  to  have  me  march  straight  at  the  Camp  Jossman 
garrison,  located  in  a carefully  selected  spot,  and,  by 
getting  my  command  beaten,  show  how  the  Japanese 
would  fare  in  case  they  should  attempt  a landing  there. 
I was  not  ordered  to  do  that,  and  I chose  exactly  the 
proper  line  of  march,  and  proceeded  to  win  out,  as  in 
actual  war.  I had  clearly  the  advantage  when  the 
new  “special  situation”  was  given  me  The  leader  of 


488 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


the  other  side  told  me  that  he  did  not,  of  his  own 
preference,  choose  the  plan  he  followed,  but  that  he 
expressed  the  wish  to  await  my  attack  somewhere 
near  the  center  of  the  island,  expecting  me  to  land 
where  he  could  not  prevent  and  then  to  seek  the  open 
country  before  attacking  him.  He  was  made  to  do 
as  the  other  fellow  wished.  That  incident  proved  how 
our  umpires  can  sometimes  be  badly  mistaken. 

The  balance  of  that  maneuver  was,  to  go  and  join 
the  Jossman  people  and  next  day  march  back  to  the 
dock  which  the  Jossman  people  used  all  the  time  in 
their  travelling  to  and  from  Ilo  Ilo,  to  board  the  War- 
ren and  return  home. 

During  that  very  interesting  field  problem,  I rode, 
or  walked,  as  the  occasion  required,  and  I ate  the 
regular  camp  fare.  In  my  own  camp  mess  I had  my 
adjutant,  quartermaster,  and  my  surgeon  who  hap- 
pened to  be  one  of  the  two  who  had  recently  examined 
me  and  had  made  up  their  minds  that  I was  hardly  fit 
for  field  service.  At  several  meals  I jokingly  remarked 
about  our  fare  and  requested  the  surgeon  to  note  my 
appetite,  and  what  I was  eating,  also  how  I was 
getting  on  as  regarded  ability  to  stand  the  work. 

Riding  and  field  work  always  had  agreed  with  me, 
and  that  maneuver  furnished  no  exception  to  the  rule, 
I rode  my  good  horse  Warwick,  a dark  bay,  or  light 
brown  gelding  which  I had  bought  from  the  Govern- 
ment. He  was  a very  intelligent  animal,  strong, 
obstinate  and  big  boned,  built  more  for  draft  purposes 
than  for  work  under  saddle. 

Early  in  November,  1910,  I was  temporary  depart- 
ment commander  for  a week  or  two,  and  I went  over 
to  Ilo  Ho  to  act  in  that  capacity,  and  I stayed  while 
there  with  my  Lieut.  Col.  Abner  Pickering.  At  Ilo  Ilo 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


489 


I found  and  met  again  Julio  Buenaflor,  who  was  my 
guide  in  the  Dumangas  swamps  in  1901,  and  after- 
wards an  officer  of  Philippine  Scouts,  to  which  posi- 
tion I helped  him  with  a strong  recommendation. 
I saw  again  Felipe  Gomez,  who  was  the  interpreter 
of  both  military  commissions,  of  which  I was  the 
senior  member,  both  courts  running  at  the  same  time. 

During  my  absence  in  Ilo  Ilo  that  time  all  the 
southern  islands  were  more  or  less  damaged  by  an 
awful  typhoon,  the  island  of  Leyte  being  specially 
hard  hit.  The  post  of  Camp  Downs  was  almost 
destroyed.  The  storm  was  more  severe  in  Panay  than 
on  the  island  of  Cebu,  but  it  was  bad  enough  there,  too. 
These  storms  come  every  year  to  some  islands,  and 
on  account  of  them  the  important  post  at  Tacloban 
had  to  be  abandoned  by  the  Army. 

In  April,  1911,  I was  temporary  department  com- 
mander for  about  a month,  and  because  of  the  length 
of  the  duty  I took  Mrs.  Crane  with  me,  also  my  best 
muchacho,  Pascual,  and  we  rented  the  old  Gay  resi- 
dence, which  had  been  used  as  officers’  quarters  by 
various  department  commanders  in  the  past.  There 
were  good  drives  out  to  Molo  and  to  Jaro,  and  beyond 
both  places,  also  good  roads  connecting  those  towns, 
and  we  enjoyed  very  much  the  use  of  the  official 
carriage  and  the  big  saddle  horse  of  the  department 
commander. 

I kept  up  my  regular  habits,  never  missing  a day 
from  my  horseback  riding,  nor  from  our  driving  in 
that  official  carriage.  We  found  the  jusi  and  abaca 
cloths  just  as  fascinating  as  of  old,  and  the  man- 
gos and  papayas  of  Panay  were  almost  as  good  as 
those  of  Cebu.  We  enjoyed  also  the  stores  and 
shops  of  Ilo  Ilo,  some  of  which  belonged  to  the 


490 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


same  big  firms  that  were  located  at  Cebu.  After 
several  weeks  the  new  department  commander,  my 
former  colonel  of  the  38th  Vols.,  then  Brigadier  Gen- 
eral George  S.  Anderson,  came  along  and  stopped 
with  us  in  the  Gay  house.  We  gave  a nice  recep- 
tion for  him,  just  as  we  gave  for  every  general 
officer  and  secretary  of  war  that  visited  us.  This 
time  we  had  only  half  our  china  with  us,  and  prac- 
tically no  furniture  except  what  we  found  in  the 
house,  but  with  the  friendly  assistance  of  the  de- 
partment staff  ladies  Mrs.  Crane  managed  to  get 
together  some  nice  refreshments,  and  the  reception 
was  quite  a success. 

It  was  a great  pleasure  to  meet  General  Anderson 
again.  He  was  one  of  the  best  known  and  best  liked 
officers  in  the  service. 

We  had  gone  over  to  Ilo  Ilo  in  the  small  steamer 
used  specially  by  the  department  commander,  and  we 
returned  by  the  same  transportation  to  Cebu,  feeling 
much  rested  by  the  change  of  scene  and  duties. 
But,  our  best  muchacho,  Pascual,  was  never  worth 
much  afterwards.  It  turned  his  head  to  travel,  as 
he  thought,  on  the  private  steamer  of  his  employer, 
and,  worse  than  that,  he  found  a woman  in  Ilo  Ilo  to 
help  him  spend  his  money.  She  followed  him  to  Cebu. 

Mrs.  Crane  and  I had  always  intended  to  visit 
China  and  Japan  during*that,  my  last  tour  of  duty  in 
the  islands  because  of  my  being  so  near  the  retirement 
age  limit,  so  we  started  in  November,  1911,  by  way  of 
Manila  and  Hong  Kong.  We  went  to  Manila  on  one 
of  the  inter-island  small  steamers,  stopped  there  one 
day  and  then  got  passage  on  the  big  Empress  liner 
Manchuria,  next  largest  steamer  in  the  Pacific  Ocean 
at  that  time. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


491 


Col.  A.  C.  Ducat  and  his  wife,  old  time  friends  of 
mine  from  the  24th  Infantry,  were  also  passengers, 
in  addition  to  Mrs.  W.  K.  Naylor  and  her  little 
daughter.  The  Ducats  were  returning  to  the  United 
States  by  way  of  Europe,  and  they  parted  from  us  at 
Hong  Kong.  The  Naylors  were  our  companions  many 
times  before  they  left  us  at  Yokohama,  on  their  road 
to  the  United  States. 

From  inquiry  while  on  the  Manchuria  we  were  told 
of  the  Astor  House  being  one  of  the  best,  and  at  the 
same  time  very  reasonable  in  price.  On  entering  the 
building  I thought  there  was  something  strangely 
familiar  in  the  appearance  of  the  inside  of  it,  so  much 
so  that  I could  not  refrain  from  asking  if  the  hotel 
had  not  once  been  called  “The  Connaught  House,” 
where  I had  stayed  a week  in  October,  1901.  I found 
that  it  was  the  same  house,  only  under  a different 
name  and  management.  We  soon  discovered  that  the 
change  of  name  and  management  had  not  damaged 
the  hotel  as  regarded  efficiency. 

One  of  our  purposes  was  to  collect  in  China  and 
Japan  some  beautiful  shawls,  mandarin  coats,  kimo- 
nos, etc.,  and  we  began  our  search  in  Hong  Kong. 
We  found  some  beautiful  things  there.  We  did  not  go 
to  Canton  for  the  reason  that  the  Chinese  Revolution 
was  in  full  blast,  and  it  was  considered  dangerous 
travelling  up  the  river  on  which  Canton  is  situated. 
Of  course  there  was  no  sign  of  the  revolution  in  Hong 
Kong,  for  that  is  practically  an  English  city,  in  spite 
of  the  overwhelming  Chinese  population  there.  We 
stopped  in  that  wonderful  city  until  another  fine 
steamer  came  along  and  took  us  away. 

While  in  Hong  Kong,  one  night  I went  with  Capt. 
Nicklin,  9th  Inf.  to  see  a contest  between  a Japanese 


492 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


wrestler  and  an  Australian  boxer.  The  latter  used 
big  boxing  gloves,  and  the  wrestler  was  forbidden  to 
use  the  most  effective  methods  in  jiu-jitsu.  The  boxer 
weighed  about  165  pounds,  and  the  wrestler  about  ten 
pounds  lighter,  and  they  were  given  the  customary 
three  minute  rounds  and  one  minute  rests.  It  took 
nine  rounds  to  settle  the  match,  the  Japanese  being 
groggy  and  unable  to  do  any  more,  but  I considered 
that  jiu-jitsu  had  won  the  match. 

Although  debarred  from  using  his  best  holds  the 
wrestler  had  thrown  the  boxer  twice,  thus  having  him 
at  his  mercy  in  a real  fight. 

Our  steamer  stopped  a few  hours  off  the  mouth  of 
the  big  river  that  runs  by  Shanghai.  Shanghai  is 
thirteen  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  river,  which  is 
a very  muddy  stream,  and  the  salt  water  for  many 
miles  is  also  muddy.  It  was  cold  and  rainy,  and  the 
change  of  temperature  after  leaving  Hong  Kong  had 
given  me  a bad  cold  which  kept  me  aboard  the  Man- 
churia that  Thanksgiving  Day  in  1911.  Aboard  the 
ship  we  had  one  of  the  nicest  and  pleasantest  Thanks- 
giving dinners  that  I ever  saw.  The  inevitable  turkey 
for  an  American  Thanksgiving  dinner,  lots  of  them, 
and  many  other  good  dishes  were  on  hand  and 
beautifully  served.  The  ship’s  company  had  gone  to 
great  trouble  and  expense,  and  the  result  was  all  that 
could  have  been  desired.  That  repast  stands  out  in 
my  memory,  and  with  nothing  disagreeable  connected 
with  it. 

There  was  quite  a good  Filipino  band  on  the  ship, 
and  they  tried  hard  to  give  us  up-to-date  music. 

I was  at  that  time  reading  Murdock’s  History  of 
Japan,  and  while  reading  about  the  Battle  of  Sekiga- 
hara  I was  much  impressed  by  the  favorite  piece 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


493 


played  by  the  band.  The  music  seemed  to  me  to  be 
sad  and  solemn,  though  very  sweet,  and  it  chimed 
in  perfectly  with  my  feelings  while  reading  of  the 
result  of  the  greatest  battle  in  Japanese  history, 
deciding  as  it  did  the  future  of  Japan  for  hundreds 
of  years.  I wanted  the  other  side  to  win,  and  the  sad 
music  on  the  Manchuria  gave  vent  to  my  feelings. 
It  was  months  before  I ascertained  the  name  of  the 
pretty  music,  and,  judge  of  my  surprise  when  I 
learned  that  it  was  the  special  waltz  in  the  comic 
opera  “Madame  Sherry,”  telling  how  “every  little 
motion  has  its  meaning,”  etc. 

At  Nagasaki  we  went  ashore  for  the  usual  “look 
see,”  and  bought  some  few  things  in  tortoise  shell 
work,  for  which  that  city  is  celebrated.  That  time 
I had,  before  leaving  Cebu,  obtained  a letter  of  credit 
for  a certain  amount  from  “The  International  Bank- 
ing Corporation,”  an  American  company  which  had 
already  established  branch  houses  in  nearly  all  the 
big  sea  coast  cities  in  that  part  of  the  Orient. 

At  Kobe  we  went  ashore  with  Mrs.  Naylor  and  her 
little  Margaret,  and  we  hunted  up  the  best  places  to 
buy  mandarin  coats  and  cloisonne  dishes,  and  after 
buying  what  we  could  afford  to,  we  went  to  the 
Pleasanton  Hotel  for  dinner.  The  hotel  was  small, 
and  was  kept  by  an  American.  We  left  the  ship  at 
Yokohama,  and  the  Naylors  went  on  to  God’s  Coun- 
try. At  Yokohama  we  stopped  at  another  “ Pleasanton 
Hotel,”  a very  nice  one,  and  kept  by  another  American. 

After  discussing  our  plans,  where  to  go  and  how 
long  to  stay  there,  my  wife  and  I decided  to  make  that 
nice  Pleasanton  Hotel  our  headquarters,  leave  our 
heavy  baggage  there,  go  off  on  short  trips,  and  after 
each  trip  return  to  our  hotel  in  Yokohama.  That  is 


494 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


what  we  did,  and  we  had  good  reason  to  applaud  our 
judgment.  Of  course  Mrs.  Crane  wanted  to  test  the 
truth  of  statements  she  had  heard  about  very  cheap, 
yet  very  fine  silk  dresses  obtainable  in  Yokohama,  and 
I had  some  small  curiosity  to  investigate  tailors,  both 
for  civilian  and  for  uniform  clothing.  We  satisfied 
all  our  wishes,  within  less  than  three  blocks  from  the 
Pleasanton  Hotel.  I had  the  good  luck  to  find  an 
excellent  Chinese  tailor  who  made  for  me,  in  a very 
short  time,  a suit  of  olive  drab  woolen  uniform  cloth- 
ing, and  another  who  made  me  a civilian  overcoat, 
all  at  very  reasonable  prices.  My  wife  found  a 
Chinese  tailor,  named  K.  Tom,  who  made  her  a 
beautiful  satin  dress,  profusely  embroidered,  the  cloth 
being  dyed  to  match  a selected  sample,  all  done  in 
48  hours,  including  the  dying  of  the  cloth  and  one 
“try  on”  fitting  to  show  the  need  of  corrections. 
That  dress  was  a beauty,  and  gave  great  satisfaction 
for  many  months. 

After  three  days  in  Yokohama  we  went  to  Myano- 
shita,  a fashionable  resort  in  the  mountains,  con- 
sisting of  hot  baths,  a fine  hotel,  excellent  eating,  and 
beautiful  scenery,  all  about  40  miles  from  Yokohama, 
20  by  rail,  15  by  trolley  and  5 by  ’ricksha.  I never 
saw  hotels  in  any  other  part  of  the  world  so  kind, 
careful,  prompt  and  considerate  as  those  I saw  in 
half  a dozen  places  in  Japan,  including  what  I saw  in 
my  first  visit  to  Japan.  In  a very  few  minutes  after 
arrival  we  had  a fire  in  our  room,  and  hot  tea  and  cake, 
and  something  like  it  was  being  done  constantly  for 
us  without  any  request  from  us. 

We  were  eleven  days  at  Myanoshita,  and  for  one 
day  we  were  the  only  guests,  so  far  as  we  could  see. 
That  was  because  of  the  time  of  year.  A few  days 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


495 


after  our  departure  there  were  lots  of  people  there. 
The  fare  was  fine,  the  scenery  beautiful  and  service 
excellent.  I climbed  the  mountains  twice  a day  for 
an  hour  or  two,  and  as  a consequence  I enjoyed  each 
meal  heartily.  Our  stay  at  that  hotel  was  very  pleas- 
ant. Before  starting  on  our  return  trip  to  Yokohama 
I telegraphed  to  the  Pleasanton  Hotel  that  we  would 
arrive  on  such  a train,  giving  the  hour  of  arrival,  and 
we  found  a warm  coal  fire  in  our  room,  and  everything 
ready  for  us. 

We  spent  the  next  three  days  looking  about  Yoko- 
hama, and  investigating  the  very  interesting  shops, 
and  of  course  making  more  purchases.  Then  we  left 
for  old  Kyoto,  the  old  time  capital  of  Japan  and  the 
center  of  her  history.  There,  too,  we  were  greatly 
impressed  by  the  nice  hotel  we  stopped  at,  the 
“Kyoto,”  in  the  center  of  the  city.  We  were  there 
Christmas  Eve,  and  saw  more  Xmas  signs  than  are 
usually  visible  in  an  American  city.  A banquet  was 
given  by  the  hotel  management  to  its  steady,  old 
friends  and  patrons  in  the  city,  and  a large  proportion 
of  them  were  foreigners. 

Old  Kyoto  is  in  the  center  of  a broad  valley,  and, 
besides  its  historic  interest  it  is  noted  for  turning  out 
fine  cloisonne  and  satsuma  wares,  silk  shawls  and 
mandarin  coats,  all  articles  that  are  much  sought 
after  by  our  American  ladies.  We  visited  some  of 
the  objects  of  historic  interest  in  and  close  to  the  city. 
We  saw  old  Hideyoshi’s  bell,  also  the  palace  he  lived  in. 

The  thing  that  impressed  me  most  was  the  elab- 
orate Christmas  preparations.  After  three  days  in 
Kyoto  we  returned  to  Yokohama,  and  on  our  train 
we  had  an  opportunity  to  observe  the  Japanese 
wrestlers.  There  were  several  of  them  on  the  train, 


496 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


going  to  Tokyo  to  attend  some  wrestling  matches  soon 
to  take  place  there,  and  they  had,  apparently,  many 
friends  at  the  towns  en  route,  judging  by  the  number 
of  people  that  boarded  the  train  to  see  them.  Two  of 
those  wrestlers  were  at  least  six  feet  tall,  and  weighed 
about  240  pounds  each,  and  they  were  busy  most  of 
the  time  eating  fruit,  of  which  they  had  great  quan- 
tities. 

We  had  only  six  days  remaining,  on  returning  to 
Yokohama,  and  we  concluded  to  spend  half  of  it  at 
Tokyo,  and  the  last  half  at  Yokohama,  at  our  very 
comfortable  hotel,  the  Pleasanton.  We  stopped  at 
the  biggest  hotel  in  Tokyo,  and  it  was  the  least  com- 
fortable one  that  we  saw  in  Japan.  We  went  out  in 
’rickshas  to  observe  New  Year’s  Day  in  front  of  the 
Mikado’s  palace,  taking  our  place  with  many  others 
just  outside  of  the  enclosure,  which  was  bounded  by 
a broad  ditch  dug  in  old  times,  as  part  of  the  palace’s 
fortifications.  We  saw  the  various  people  who  were 
privileged  to  make  a New  Year’s  call,  cross  the  bridge 
and  enter  the  palace  grounds,  and  we  remained  in 
place  long  enough  to  see  most  of  them  return. 

We  called  on  our  ambassador  in  Tokyo,  and  were 
rewarded  for  our  courtesy  by  an  invitation  to  lunch, 
which  we  enjoyed  very  much.  While  talking  with  the 
ambassador  about  the  expenses  of  keeping  up  his 
office  I spoke  of  the  recent  appropriation  by  Congress 
to  assist  our  representatives  abroad  and  I was  told  that 
the  amount  allotted  was  only  a drop  in  the  bucket. 
Evidently  he  had  not  moved  out  of  his  former  quar- 
ters since  the  money  was  appropriated,  and  part  of  the 
house  was  used  as  offices,  and  the  balance  as  residence. 
I noticed  in  Yokohama  how  our  consular  buildings 
compared  unfavorably  with  those  of  other  great 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


497 


nations,  and  in  Tokyo  the  comparison  was  not  dis- 
turbed, being  just  as  much  against  us. 

In  Japan  we  noticed  how  the  daily  English  news- 
papers would,  a week  or  two  ahead  of  time  of  arrival 
of  a big  ship  from  the  United  States,  publish  a list 
containing  the  names  of  all  the  passengers,  date  of 
arrival  of  ship,  and  length  of  stay  at  each  port  to  be 
stopped  at.  We  saw  it  happen  several  times,  and  we 
noticed  how  the  prices  would  rise  on  the  days  when 
those  ships  were  in  harbor,  but  that  last  peculiarity  we 
had  already  noticed  at  Cebu.  While  the  big  ship 
Minnesota  was  at  Yokohama  during  the  first  week  of 
January,  1912,  I was  out  on  the  street  and  was  mis- 
taken more  than  once  for  a passenger  on  that  ship. 
Getting  a little  impatient  I would  finally  say,  “ I don’t 
belong  on  that  boat.  I have  been  here  a month.” 
Then  the  Japs  would  laugh  and  leave  me. 

While  at  Hong  Kong,  and  again  at  Yokohama  I sent 
to  the  United  States  some  of  the  articles  I had  bought. 
In  Hong  Kong  I used  the  Wells  Fargo  Express,  and 
in  Yokohama  I registered  the  package,  and  sent  it 
by  mail,  or  as  parcel  post. 

We  saw  very  few  soldiers  during  our  stay  in  Japan, 
and  there  was  nothing  strange  in  the  appearance  of 
those  that  we  did  see,  or  in  their  conduct.  We  were 
treated  with  consideration  everywhere  we  went.  I 
registered  at  each  hotel  as  “Colonel  C.  J.  Crane,  U.  S. 
Army,”  and  my  trunk  showed  just  as  plainly  who  I 
was,  and  I did  not  see  that  I attracted  any  unusual  at- 
tention, or  desire  to  know  what  I was  there  for.  Of 
course  they  wanted  my  money,  but  they  were  always 
decent  and  polite  about  it. 

United  States  money  seemed  at  a premium,  whether 
gold,  silver  or  paper,  or  even  a check  on  a big  bank. 


498 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I was  treated  differently  in  Chicago  in  the  fall  of  1907 
when  I had  to  get  Howard  H.  Hoyt  to  use  his  influence 
with  James  Forgan,  the  great  banker,  to  get  my  pay 
check  cashed  at  Forgan’s  bank.  It  was  a government 
check,  signed  by  an  Army  paymaster. 

I was  glad  to  see  how  in  Japan  the  banks  and  big 
companies  were  glad  to  cash  my  different  letters  of 
credit,  also  to  see  how  glad  the  merchants  were  to 
receive  any  American  money,  of  any  kind.  The  Japan- 
ese yen  was  worth  just  half  our  dollar,  like  the  Filipino 
dollar  in  that  respect,  Conant  dollar  they  call  it.  At 
all  Japanese  big  stores  it  made  no  difference  whether 
they  were  paid  in  dollars,  or  in  yens.  I usually  had 
some  small  change  in  Japanese  money,  to  use  in  the 
purchase  of  fruit  and  other  small  articles. 

I wanted  to  read  of  real  Japan,  written  by  real 
Japs,  and  therefore  I tried  to  find  some  translations 
of  Japanese  novels,  poems  and  histories.  I found  a 
weak  sample  of  a novel,  not  the  work  of  a Japanese, 
also  the  “Life  of  Hideyoshi,”  another  doubtful  speci- 
men but  containing  much  interesting  information. 
The  fine  book  of  Griffis’,  “The  Mikado’s  Empire,”  is 
not  full  enough.  The  Japanese  deserve  more  atten- 
tion from  us,  they  and  their  language,  aspirations 
and  customs. 

To  me  their  words  seemed  easier  to  catch,  and 
learn  to  understand  and  remember  than  any  I had 
heard  of  the  various  Filipino  dialects. 

The  Japanese  use  the  wooden  shoe  frequently,  with 
no  top,  and  nothing  but  crossed  straps  to  hold  them 
on,  also  corn  shuck  soles  attached  to  the  foot  by  the 
same  kind  of  crossed  straps.  The  woman’s  stocking 
reaches  a very  little  above  the  ankle  and  the  kimono 
just  about  makes  connection  with  the  stocking. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


499 


The  Japanese  resemble  the  Filipinos  in  so  many 
ways  that  I must  believe  that  they  were  both  origi- 
nally of  the  great  Malay  family  far  south  of  them. 
I believe  that  they  wandered  along  the  eastern  coast 
of  Asia  till  they  reached  the  islands  now  inhabited  by 
the  Japanese,  some  of  them  stopping  in  the  Philip- 
pines. In  appearance  the  two  peoples  are  so  much 
alike  that,  if  dressed  exactly  alike  it  would  be  almost 
impossible  to  distinguish  one  from  the  other.  And  their 
mental  and  moral  peculiarities  are  just  as  much  alike. 

At  Kelly  and  Walsh’s  big  book  store  in  Yokohama 
I found  a very  quaint,  queer  little  book,  which,  in 
Japanese  hands,  has  greatly  influenced  the  course  of 
the  events  described  in  Japanese  histories.  The  book 
I saw  is  a translation  of  a Chinese  book  which  was 
written  prior  to  400  b.c.,  and  contains  the  teachings 
of  the  two  great  Chinese  generals  Wu  and  Sun.  I 
bought  that  translation  of  “The  Book  of  War,”  and 
I have  enjoyed  very  much  the  reading  of  it.  Consid- 
ering the  date  it  was  written,  the  book  was  concen- 
trated wisdom  regarding  war.  Apparently,  the 
Chinese  have  forgotten  the  teachings  of  that  best 
early  description  of  how  war  should  be  waged,  but 
the  Japanese  are  said  to  have  been  studying  and 
practicing  its  lessons  for  hundreds  of  years  during 
their  many  civil  wars. 

Any  one  going  to  Japan  for  a short  visit,  as  we  did, 
would  do  well,  as  we  did,  to  make  headquarters  at 
Yokohama,  and  from  that  place  pay  short  visits  to 
the  most  interesting  places,  going  for  such  purpose 
even  as  far  as  Kobe. 

The  chestnut  seemed  to  be  their  favorite  nut,  and 
a very  large  persimmon  their  favorite  fruit,  better 
than  their  apple.  That  big  persimmon  has  no  pucker 


500 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


to  it  when  half  ripe,  as  ours  have.  I ate  lots  of 
half  ripe  ones  there,  peeling  the  fruit  as  apples  are 
peeled. 

Having  stayed  our  last  three  days  in  Yokohama 
after  returning  from  Tokyo,  my  wife  and  I took  pass- 
age on  the  steamer  Mongolia  for  Manila,  where  we 
had  to  remain  five  or  six  days  before  we  could  catch 
a boat  for  Cebu.  We  reached  our  post  greatly  bene- 
fited in  health  and  spirits,  and  we  brought  back  with 
us  many  interesting  souvenirs,  from  Hong  Kong  and 
the  cities  of  Japan. 

Very  soon  after  arriving  at  Cebu,  in  January,  1912, 
we  had  another  test  ride,  in  which  Lieut.  Col.  Paxton 
and  Majors  Bookmiller  and  Jarvis  joined  me.  We 
were  all  infantrymen.  The  ride  was  easy,  none  of  us 
feeling  greatly  fatigued,  or  hurt  by  the  ride.  I told 
the  examining  surgeon  about  my  last  test  ride  and 
the  report  made  on  me  then,  and  I was  informed  by 
him  that  if  that  diagnosis  had  been  correct  I could 
not  have  made  my  last  ride  as  I did.  I believed  so, 
myself,  and  I still  think  so. 

During  the  spring  of  1912  the  regiment  was  con- 
centrated at  Cebu  for  a field  maneuver  and  the  annual 
inspection.  A most  interesting  field  problem  was 
worked  out,  and  some  good  mountain  climbing  and 
marching  was  done  by  us  during  our  field  exercise. 
I was  glad  to  see  that  I could  still  climb  a mountain, 
not  so  well,  nor  so  fast  as  I did  it  years  before,  but  as 
well  as  the  average  man  did  it  during  that  march. 

Major  Bookmiller  again  showed  himself  the  fine 
officer  that  he  always  was,  handling  his  command 
beautifully.  At  the  end  of  the  field  work  the  regiment 
was  inspected  while  still  in  camp;  indeed,  the  whole 
business  was  an  inspection. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


501 


About  that  time  our  home  papers  were  full  of 
descriptions  of  troubles  in  Mexico,  which  seemed  to 
be  of  such  a nature  as  to  call  for  us  to  administer  a 
good  thrashing  to  that  country.  I still  think  that  the 
whipping  should  have  been  given  at  that  time,  and 
I was  anxious  to  get  back  to  God’s  Country  and  take 
a part  in  the  invasion,  for  I had  promised  myself, 
long  ago,  that  I would  be  a charter  member  of  the 
“Aztec  Club  No.  2,”  which  some  day  will  be  organized 
in  the  halls  of  the  Montezumas.  It  seemed  that  luck 
was,  once  more,  coming  my  way,  for  we  were  ordered 
home,  to  sail  from  Manila  early  in  June,  1912.  All 
of  us  looked  forward  to  going  into  Mexico  soon,  and 
we  were  impatient  to  go  there,  and  we  felt  sorry  for 
our  comrades  in  China  and  the  Philippines.  But  we 
were  to  see  a little  more  of  our  “Little  brown  brother” 
before  leaving  Cebu. 

As  a climax  to  the  series  of  petty  annoyances  caused 
us  by  the  native  police,  several  weeks  before  we  left 
Cebu  some  of  my  men  one  night  threw  dice  for  the 
drinks,  in  a nearby  saloon.  It  so  happened  that  each 
man  paid  25  cents  for  his  throw,  and  took  a drink, 
or  a cigar  or  two,  at  his  option,  and  the  winner  pocket- 
ed the  balance.  That  fact  constituted  a technical 
violation  of  a city  ordinance  against  gambling,  and 
the  police  quickly  appeared  and  arrested  some  of 
them.  A sergeant  and  a corporal  were  taken  to  the 
calaboose,  where  the  Chief  of  Police  soon  appeared, 
with  his  brain  somewhat  addled  by  drink.  He  called 
for  handcuffs,  and  when  they  were  brought  the 
sergeant  coolly  held  out  his  hands  and  received  the 
irons,  and  the  corporal  followed  his  example.  All  this 
without  the  offer  of  the  slightest  resistance  b\f  my 
men.  Not  even  a protest  was  made.  My  men  dis- 


502 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


played  the  finest  sort  of  discipline,  and  remained  in 
confinement  all  night. 

Again  I made  a report  to  Manila  about  the  Cebu 
police,  and  that  time  there  was  an  answer  such  as 
I liked.  A new  division  commander  had  arrived  some 
months  before,  and  he  had  several  times  visited  us, 
showing  a wide  awake  interest  in  our  post  affairs. 
Through  General  Bell’s  efforts  in  Manila  the  Cebu 
Chief  of  Police  was  ordered  to  be  investigated  by  the 
native  fiscal  at  Cebu,  named  Borromeo,  and  I had 
the  opportunity  to  produce  against  the  police,  their 
chief  and  the  people  of  Cebu,  all  my  complaints,  and 
I did  so. 

For  eight  days,  with  a Spanish  lawyer  as  counsel  for 
the  Chief  of  Police,  I acted  as  prosecutor,  and  some- 
times as  witness.  We  had  a stenographer  and  an 
interpreter,  and  we  were  busy.  For  the  first  four  days 
I had  Lieut.  Robert  Adams  assisting  me,  and  for  the 
remaining  half  Lieut.  Lewis  helped  me.  The  Fiscal, 
prosecuting  attorney  for  the  government  and  acting 
as  judge  in  that  case,  was  really  a friend  to  the  other 
side,  and  I had  to  insist  several  times  on  getting  my 
evidence  on  record.  Finally,  the  evidence  being  all 
in,  the  case  was  finished.  I suggested  that  we  still 
had  our  arguments  to  present.  After  expressing  some 
surprise,  and  after  exchanging  some  talk  in  Spanish 
with  the  Spanish  lawyer,  the  Fiscal  announced  that 
I should  present  my  argument  the  next  day,  and  the 
defence  submit  theirs  the  day  following  mine. 

I agreed,  but  claimed  the  right  to  reply  to  the  law- 
yer’s speech,  and  that  caused  all  the  Spanish  speaking 
people  there  to  protest,  all  at  the  same  time,  and  the 
Fiscal  expressed  the  opinion  that  I had  no  right  to 
reply  to  the  lawyer’s  argument  for  the  defence.  I 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


503 


insisted  that  I had  the  right  to  both  the  opening  and 
the  closing  speech  for  the  government,  and  I won 
out,  after  which  we  adjourned.  As  I had  my  first 
speech  already  written,  I had  no  trouble  in  getting 
ready,  so  I sent  in  my  argument  early  the  next  morn- 
ing. The  morning  following  the  receipt  of  my  argu- 
ment the  Fiscal  telephoned  me  that  he  had  given 
the  defence  two  more  days  in  which  to  prepare  their 
argument.  When  that  day  arrived  he  telephoned  me 
again,  saying  that  there  would  be  no  argument  pre- 
sented by  the  defence.  By  that  time  I had  my  second 
speech  written,  closing  the  prosecution.  I sent  the 
original  to  the  Fiscal,  and  at  the  same  time  I sent 
to  the  Division  Commander  copies  of  both  arguments. 
In  those  arguments  I gave  a full  and  complete  history 
of  my  case  against  the  Chief  of  Police  and  the  people 
of  Cebu. 

The  General  again  interested  himself  in  our  behalf, 
and  the  result  was  that,  a few  days  later,  when  we  were 
leaving  Cebu,  we  were  informed  officially  that  the 
Chief  of  Police  had  been  dismissed  from  office,  and 
debarred  for  five  years  from  holding  office  in  the 
islands.  During  all  that  time  at  Cebu,  under  most 
trying  circumstances,  being  continually  annoyed  by 
the  Cebu  police,  my  men  of  the  9th  Infantry  had 
behaved  with  wonderful  forbearance,  leaving  the  case 
entirely  in  my  hands,  for  which  I was  most  gratefully 
appreciative. 

Twice  while  we  were  at  Cebu  the  troops  prevented 
the  town  from  being  destroyed  by  fire.  We  turned 
out  promptly,  and  taking  hold  of  the  situation 
instantly,  also  of  the  fire  engine,  we  put  out  the  fire, 
in  each  case  saving  the  business  part  of  the  town  from 
being  burned  down.  In  one  of  those  fires  we  saved 


504 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


some  of  the  property  belonging  to  the  two  big  English 
firms,  “Chartered  Bank  of  India,  Australia  and 
China”  and  the  “McLeod  Steamship  Co.”  Both  of 
those  firms  presented  the  regiment  with  nice  silver 
souvenirs,  thus  showing  their  high  appreciation  of  the 
services  rendered  them  by  the  9th  Infantry. 

Before  leaving  Cebu  for  Manila  on  June  5,  1912, 
I issued  the  same  kind  of  orders  which  had  carried  us 
across  the  Western  Continent  and  the  Pacific  Ocean 
without  the  loss  of  a man.  I was  very  desirous  of 
duplicating  that  achievement,  but  one  of  my  men 
was  slow  bidding  his  Filipina  girl  goodbye,  and  as  a 
consequence  he  got  left  at  Cebu.  While  we  were 
waiting  at  Ormoc,  Leyte  (Camp  Downs),  for  the 
right  hour  to  leave  that  port,  a soldier  dropped  down 
into  the  water  from  the  ship  about  9 p.m.,  and  swam 
away  in  plain  view  of  us  all.  The  transport  was  at 
anchor  at  least  half  a mile  from  shore,  but  the  man 
made  it  safely,  according  to  later  information.  During 
the  time  the  fellow  was  swimming  around  the  ship 
it  was  quite  a while  before  his  intentions  were  under- 
stood, and  then  it  was  too  late  except  to  have  some 
expert  rifleman  shoot  him,  and  I did  not  think  that 
the  occasion  called  for  that.  The  soldier  was  after- 
wards caught  and  punished  by  sentence  of  Court 
Martial,  like  his  comrade  who  got  left  at  Cebu. 

The  same  good  ship  Warren  took  us  to  Manila,  via 
Ormoc  and  Ilo  Ilo,  at  which  places  we  were  joined  by 
the  other  parts  of  the  9th  Infantry. 

At  Manila  we  went  into  camp  for  several  days  and 
thus  had  one  last  opportunity  to  see  the  capital  of  the 
islands.  American  push,  industry  and  scientific 
achievement  had  accomplished  wonders  in  Manila. 
We  saw  there  wharves  just  outside  the  mouth  of  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


505 


Passig  River  accommodating  the  biggest  steamers 
that  sailed  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  the  part  of  the  river 
inside  the  city  was  lined  with  better  wharves  than  used 
to  be  there.  We  saw  many  fine  modern  buildings  and 
other  improvements  which  many  years  more  of  Span- 
ish rule  would  not  have  put  there.  The  great  change 
in  Manila  was  very  evident.  At  our  leaving,  our  troops 
were  being  concentrated  on  the  island  of  Luzon,  and 
near  Manila,  including  Corregidor  and  other  small 
islands  commanding  the  entrance  to  Manila  Bay. 

Corregidor  and  neighboring  islands  were  being  forti- 
fied, and  our  regulars  were  being  concentrated  there 
and  at  Camps  Stotsenburg  and  McKinley,  leaving 
the  greater  part  of  the  Philippines  garrisoned  by 
Philippine  Scouts  and  Constabularies.  A company 
of  Maccabebee  Scouts  relieved  my  six  companies 
at  Cebu. 

In  the  acquisition  of  those  islands  we  “ gave  hostages 
to  fortune,”  for,  by  raising  the  American  flag  there  we 
showed  Japan  and  other  naval  powers  where  to  strike 
us  a blow  which  we  could  not  parry,  and  the  islands 
are  not  worth  a war  with  any  big  nation.  I have  no 
sympathy  whatever  with  our  big  brother  and  grand- 
mother manner  of  treating  the  Filipinos  and  their 
islands.  I don’t  feel  that  we  owe  them  anything, 
and  I would  not  have  the  slightest  objection  to  our 
selling  the  islands  to  Japan,  or  to  any  other  nation, 
for  a decent  price : indeed  that  is  what  I advocate. 

The  Filipinos  do  not  yet  understand  us,  or  our  mo- 
tives, still  mistaking  our  justice  and  patience  for  lack 
of  intelligence,  and  our  kindness  for  cowardice.  They 
envy  and  hate  us.  We  could  not  defend  the  islands 
against  any  big  nation,  for  the  landing  of  a small 
army,  bringing  thirty  thousand  rifles  and  necessary 


506 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


ammunition  for  the  natives,  would  be  sufficient  to 
lose  us  the  islands.  Having  lost  the  islands  we  could 
not  recover  them  except  after  a long  war,  and  they  are 
not  worth  that,  in  any  way.  I cannot  help  believing 
that  we  will  yet  pay  dearly  for  the  Philippines,  and 
I would  be  glad  to  see  our  flag  leave  there,  in  any 
honorable  manner. 

The  same  old  Army  Transport  Sherman  left  Manila 
about  June  15,  1912,  with  the  entire  6th  Infantry  and 
the  Headquarters,  Band  and  first  two  battalions  of 
the  9th  Infantry.  I was  again  the  senior  officer  aboard, 
and  therefore  commanded  the  transport  again.  There 
were  many  glad  hearts  aboard  on  that  trip  back  to 
God’s  Country,  and  nothing  happened  to  mar  the 
long  journey  to  San  Francisco.  We  stopped  a few 
hours  at  Nagasaki,  and  about  a day  at  Honolulu. 
While  out  at  sea,  every  few  days  a wireless  message 
came  from  somewhere,  and  in  that  way  we  heard 
from  the  United  States  long  before  landing  at  ’Frisco. 
We  learned  by  wireless  telegraphy  the  news  from  the 
political  conventions  which  nominated  candidates  for 
the  coming  presidential  election  campaign,  and  I was 
confident  that  Woodrow  Wilson  would  win,  and  I 
congratulated  myself  on  my  improved  prospects  for 
promotion,  and  I also  felt  that  our  chances  for  going 
into  Mexico  were  now  sure  of  accomplishment.  At 
last  I would  be  a charter  member  of  “Aztec  Club 
No.  2.” 

Once  more,  as  we  approached  “The  Golden  Gate” 
I repeated  Walter  Scott’s  immortal  words  “Breathes 
there  the  man,  etc.,”  and  again  tried  my  eyes  in  look- 
ing for  land.  I was  as  good  as  the  average  man  in 
getting  first  sight  of  our  own  soil.  The  Sherman  had 
no  cholera  aboard,  and  we  were  allowed  to  move  right 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


507 


up  against  the  wharf.  There  were  many  friends  there 
for  many  of  us.  General  Jesse  M.  Lee  was  on  hand, 
looking  somewhat  broken.  We  learned  that  Head- 
quarters, Band  and  one  battalion  of  the  regiment 
would  go  to  Fort  Thomas,  Ky.,  and  that  the  other 
two  battalions  would  be  divided  between  Forts 
Snelling  and  Logan  H.  Roots. 

We  made  good  time  disembarking  and  unloading, 
and  I tried  to  get  away  without  losing  a man,  but  a 
fine  sergeant,  named  Schlenker,  must  go  and  drink 
too  much  and  get  left  behind.  He  came  on,  soon  after- 
wards, paying  his  own  way.  He  lost  his  chevrons,  and 
much  of  his  good  reputation  as  a soldier  because  of 
his  uncontrollable  appetite  for  strong  drink. 

We  arrived  at  Fort  Thomas,  Ky.,  July  16,  1912,  on 
a very  warm  day. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


After  seeing  that  my  second  son,  Mitchell,  did  not 
wish  the  appointment  to  Annapolis  which  I could  get 
for  him,  I redoubled  my  efforts  and  obtained  for  him, 
too,  an  appointment  to  our  Military  Academy,  which 
he  entered  in  June,  1912,  after  a course  of  special 
preparation  at  Prof.  Schadmann’s  school  at  Wash- 
ington, D.  C. 

Carey’s  appointment  had  been  as  an  alternate,  with 
many  ahead  of  him  on  the  list,  making  his  examina- 
tion very  hard,  for  he  had  to  beat  all  the  alternates 
ahead  of  him,  and  some  of  the  principals  had  to  fail 
in  order  to  give  vacancies  for  the  alternates  to  com- 
pete for.  Mitchell’s  appointment  was  a straight  out 
competitive  examination  for  all,  for  there  were  no 
principals,  and  all  candidates  had  equal  chance  for 
the  appointment.  President  Roosevelt  gave  Carey 
his  opportunity,  and  President  Taft  gave  Mitchell 
his  chance.  I had  to  work  hard  each  time,  to  get  my 
boys  the  opportunity  to  compete  for  appointments, 
and  I saw  to  it  that  they  were  given  the  proper  kind 
of  instruction  to  enable  them  to  pass  the  required 
examinations. 

Fort  Thomas  had  not  been  garrisoned  for  about  two 
years,  and  only  a part  of  the  post  had  been  prepared 
for  our  coming,  but  it  had  been  so  recently  built  that 
all  the  houses  were  in  fairly  good  condition.  Lieut- 


508 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


509 


enant  Leonard  had  been  ordered  home  from  the 
Philippines  ahead  of  the  regiment.  He  was  sick  and 
on  recovery  was  sent  to  Fort  Thomas  to  await  the 
arrival  of  the  regiment,  which  he  did,  and  found  there 
no  supplies  of  any  kind.  Strange  oversight  of  the 
War  Department!  Leonard  found  only  workmen 
putting  buildings  in  better  condition.  Knowing  that 
we  would  arrive  at  Fort  Thomas  with  no  more  than 
one  or  two  days’  rations  on  hand,  he  hastened  to  con- 
stitute himself  commanding  officer  and  then,  to  ap- 
point himself  all  the  different  supply  officers  of  a post 
authorized  at  that  time.  In  those  various  capacities 
he  submitted  requisitions,  approved  them  as  com- 
manding officer,  and  forwarded  them  to  be  filled. 

We  had  great  reason  to  thank  Lieut.  Leonard  for 
his  good  and  wise  forethought.  He  saved  the  situa- 
tion, for  in  advance  of  our  arrival,  all  without  any 
authority  from  his  superiors,  he  obtained  all  sorts 
of  subsistence  stores,  forage,  animals  and  wagon 
transportation,  and  many  other  things  necessary  for 
any  post.  He  did  not  even  belong  to  that  part  of 
the  regiment  ordered  to  Fort  Thomas.  His  com- 
pany belonged  to  the  battalion  sent  to  Fort  Logan 
H.  Roots,  Ark. 

As  a reward,  and  to  show  my  appreciation  of  what 
he  had  done,  I transferred  Lieut.  Leonard  to  the  batta- 
lion at  Fort  Thomas  and  kept  him  there,  knowing 
that  it  would  greatly  please  him.  During  my  long 
service  I have  seen  and  known  of  exceedingly  few 
instances  of  conduct  like  that  described,  and  it  raised 
Leonard  very  much  in  my  estimation.  He  was  not 
a fine  post  duty  officer,  and  he  took  very  little  interest 
in  the  social  life  of  a post,  but  he  impressed  me  as  a 
man  who  would  do  excellent  field  work,  being  very 


510 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


resourceful  in  many  ways,  very  hardy  and  fond  of 
hunting  the  wildest  sort  of  game.  He  would  shine 
best  as  a partisan  officer. 

In  all  my  life  I was  in  greatest  danger  of  a violent 
death  at  Fort  Thomas.  It  happened  in  this  way. 
Early  one  morning  I was  taking  my  before  breakfast 
walk,  using  a long  stick  to  assist  me  in  getting  up 
and  down  those  very  steep  hills,  and  I was  returning 
to  my  quarters,  walking  along  the  railroad  tracks 
nearest  the  post.  I had  arrived  almost  opposite  the 
big  power  plant  between  the  post  and  the  river  when 
a long  freight  train  approached  me,  making  an  almost 
deafening  noise  as  it  came  on  down  the  river.  There 
were  at  least  half  a dozen  tracks  at  that  spot,  and 
the  freight  train  was  on  the  one  farthest  from  me.  It 
was  making  such  a noise  that  I could  hear  nothing 
else  at  any  distance. 

But,  in  a little  while  I did  hear  a faint  little  sound 
to  my  right  and  rear,  and  looking  quickly  over  my 
right  shoulder  I saw  a lone  engine  about  ten  or  twelve 
feet  from  me,  with  a man  on  top  of  it  bending  over 
and  nearly  splitting  his  throat  trying  to  arouse  me 
to  a realization  of  my  danger.  I have  always  been 
very  quick  and  active  in  my  movements,  but  I never 
needed  extreme  agility  so  much  on  any  other  occasion. 
Quick  as  thought  I made  one  leap  to  the  right,  using 
my  long  stick  in  doing  so.  While  I was  in  the  air  the 
engine  passed  me  with  a rush  of  wind  and  a mingled 
sound  made  by  the  man  and  engine. 

The  man  was  then  looking  towards  me,  and  he  was 
bending  low  to  see  if  I had  been  hurt.  I had  made 
only  one  leap,  and  had  done  it  very  quickly,  but  while 
I was  still  in  the  air  the  engine  struck  my  long  stick 
which  must  have  been  pointing  to  my  rear.  The  stick 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


511 


was  made  to  strike  the  calf  of  my  right  leg,  bringing 
me  to  the  ground,  on  my  back. 

I was  not  aware  of  what  had  happened,  but  from 
my  position  on  the  ground  I heard  the  engine  go  past, 
and  I saw  the  man  eagerly  looking  to  see  what  had 
happened  to  me.  I hastened  to  relieve  his  mind  by 
instantly  giving  him  a military  salute,  which  I was 
glad  to  be  able  to  do.  Rising  from  the  ground  I exam- 
ined myself  to  see  if  I had  been  injured  in  any  way. 
I found  the  calf  of  my  right  leg  quite  sore,  and  exam- 
ining further  I saw  that  my  right  leggin  showed  evi- 
dences of  rough  treatment  where  it  was  struck  by 
the  stick  which  I carried.  The  soreness  remained  with 
me  only  a few  days,  but  that  lesson  I will  never  forget. 

Fort  Thomas  is  located  on  the  Kentucky  side  of 
the  Ohio  River,  several  miles  above  Cincinnati,  Ohio, 
and  Newport  and  Covington,  Ky.,  at  a point  on  the 
river  where  the  bluffs  are  the  highest  for  a hundred 
miles.  Only  West  Point,  N.  Y.,  has  a prettier  location, 
among  the  posts  that  I have  seen.  It  is  several  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  river,  and  offers  views  up  and  down 
and  across  the  river  which  are  excelled  by  those  at 
West  Point  only. 

We  found  the  people  on  both  sides  of  the  river 
eager  and  anxious  to  see  us  and  to  try  to  make  our 
stay  at  Fort  Thomas  pleasant  and  agreeable,  and  we 
were  not  slow  in  reciprocating.  Our  gymnasium  had 
a big  hall  for  indoor  drills  and  dancing,  and  a space 
for  a post  exchange.  For  all  those  purposes  we  soon 
used  the  big  building,  not  excepting  the  dancing. 
Several  times  the  people  of  the  neighborhood  were 
allowed  to  give  their  dances  there. 

The  autumn  weather  was  superb,  and  it  soon  braced 
me  up  physically,  and  the  fine  stores  of  Cincinnati 


512 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


gave  us  excellent  opportunity  to  supply  ourselves 
with  many  things  necessary  in  that  latitude  and 
climate.  We  lost  no  time  in  making  friends  on  both 
sides  of  the  river. 

The  old  target  range  was  located  eleven  miles  from 
the  post,  up  the  Licking  River,  and  contained  only 
about  164  acres,  much  too  small  for  a modern  target 
range,  but,  on  account  of  the  high  hills  paralleling 
the  river  and  other  advantageous  location  at  that 
spot,  I really  think  that  there  was  then  little  or  no 
danger  to  next  door  neighbors  during  target  practice. 
The  line  of  targets  was  along  the  base  of  the  hill,  and 
the  firing  points  were  down  near  the  river,  some  of 
them  being  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  There 
had  been  no  firing  there  for  several  years,  because  of 
complaints  from  farmers  close  by.  While  on  duty 
at  Governor’s  Island  in  1903  I saw  the  correspondence 
on  the  subject,  and  while  at  Thomas  I found  the  old 
time  target  range  leases. 

I believe  the  target  range  to  be  less  dangerous  during 
practice  season  than  that  at  Fort  Benjamin  Harrison, 
Indiana.  But,  at  the  latter  place  the  people  in  pos- 
sible danger  were  tenants  on  Government  property 
instead  of  being  the  owners  of  neighboring  farms  which 
they  wished  to  sell  to  the  Government  at  exorbitant 
prices.  The  trouble  began,  as  I said,  as  early  as  1903, 
and  I remembered  about  it  as  I began  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  our  coming  target  firing.  I found  that  the 
office  at  Governor’s  Island  appeared  to  have  forgotten 
about  it,  and  I had  to  remind  them  of  it  from  my 
recollection  of  the  papers  which  I had  seen  while 
on  duty  there. 

After  discussing  the  relative  availability  of  Camp 
Perry,  Ohio,  and  Fort  Benjamin  Harrison,  Indiana, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


513 


the  latter  place  was  chosen  for  our  next  season’s 
target  practice.  In  the  meantime  I examined  well  the 
old  range  for  quail  and  other  small  game,  and  three 
times  I spent  the  best  part  of  a cold  day  in  hunting 
there.  There  were  a dozen  or  so  quail  on  the  reserva- 
tion, also  a few  squirrels,  many  cotton-tail  rabbits, 
and  sometimes  a very  few  migratory  birds  which  did 
not  remain  there  long.  I killed  a few  rabbits,  no  quail, 
no  squirrel,  but,  one  day  I had  the  good  luck  to  flush 
several  woodcock,  one  at  a time,  and  to  kill  two  of 
them,  the  first  birds  of  that  tribe  that  I ever  shot  at. 
The  next  winter  I did  not  go  hunting,  being  discour- 
aged by  my  first  winter’s  poor  luck.  I did  not  try 
fishing  in  Licking  River,  for  which  I am  very  sorry. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1913  the  second  battalion  of 
the  regiment  came  down  from  Fort  Snelling,  Minn., 
thus  completing  the  size  of  the  garrison  for  which  the 
post  was  built.  Major  G.  B.  Duncan  commanded 
the  new  addition  to  the  garrison. 

Before  this,  however,  we  had  our  first  test  ride, 
during  the  first  week  in  December  while  it  was  quite 
cold.  My  only  companion  on  this  ride  was  the  Lieu- 
tenant Colonel  of  the  regiment,  D.  C.  Shanks,  an  old 
time  fine  rifle  shot.  I had  tried  for  many  weeks  to 
get  a good  horse  from  the  remount  station  at  Front 
Royal,  Va.,  but  making  slow  progress  and  feeling 
that  the  brigade  commander  was  getting  impatient, 
I went  in  to  Newport  one  morning  and  bought  a very 
large,  very  strong,  hardy,  well  gaited  fine  looking  but 
vicious  gelding. 

I had  to  have  a horse,  so  I hurried  to  buy  something 
that  would  take  me  through  the  test  ride.  I was  soon 
very  sorry,  but  I used  the  animal  on  the  test  ride,  and 
I rode  him  the  three  days  without  his  showing  the 


514 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


slightest  fatigue,  or  even  the  turn  of  a hair.  His  pro- 
pensity was  to  keep  his  rider  in  the  belief  that  the  next 
time  that  he  reared  up  he  would  surely  fall  over  back- 
wards, and  he  was  an  adept  at  the  whole  business. 
One  time  he  reared  up  so  straight  that  my  saddle 
blanket  slipped  out  from  under  the  saddle  and  saddle 
cloth. 

I realized  that  the  horse  had  practically  all  the 
good  qualities  I wanted  in  my  saddle  horse,  and  I tried 
hard  to  get  him  broken  in  and  made  gentle.  After 
inviting  my  best  horsemen  to  ride  my  horse,  and 
noticing  that  no  man  ever  showed  a desire  to  ride 
him  a second  time,  I got  tired  of  feeling  my  life  was 
in  danger  every  time  I mounted  him,  and  I lost  no 
time  in  selling  him  back  to  the  man  I had  bought  him 
from.  I lost  $75  on  the  deal,  but  I rode  my  test  ride 
with  very  little  fatigue.  Next  to  my  fine  red  bay  horse 
Frank,  at  Fort  Sill,  that  same  vicious  horse  suited  me 
best  in  everything  except  disposition. 

Since  my  promotion  I had  a horse  of  my  own  except 
for  several  months  at  Cebu.  I now  bought  another 
horse  from  the  Government,  finding  one  to  suit  me 
among  the  animals  ridden  by  my  mounted  detach- 
ment. “Tom”  was  my  last  horse,  and  he  was  one  of 
the  roughest  trotters  that  I ever  rode.  But  I made 
good  use  of  him  on  the  roads  around  Fort  Thomas 
during  the  many  field  exercises  of  various  kinds  en- 
gaged in  there.  The  country  of  the  neighborhood  was 
well  adapted  for  such  military  work.  Major  Duncan 
was  an  excellent  instructor  in  such  exercises,  also  in 
class  room  problems  on  the  map,  and  I was  glad  to 
utilize  his  services  in  that  kind  of  work  during  the  fine 
weather  we  had  at  Fort  Thomas.  Major  Bookmiller 
was  an  invaluable  assistant  in  all  military  duties, 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


515 


including  those  just  mentioned.  He  was  junior  to 
Major  Duncan,  and  was  always  a loyal,  willing 
subordinate. 

Early  in  April,  1913,  I went  to  Washington  to  see 
what  were  my  prospects  for  promotion  to  brigadier 
general.  I saw  quite  a number  of  other  officers  there, 
and  they  appeared  to  be  on  business  similar  to  mine. 
I remember  none  that  had  any  better  luck  than  fell 
to  my  lot. 

In  the  spring  of  1913  the  Ohio  River  and  its  tribu- 
tary streams  afflicted  the  country  with  floods  which 
caused  the  loss  of  many  lives  and  a great  deal  of  valu- 
able property.  From  Fort  Thomas  we  had  a great 
view  of  the  high  water  in  the  Ohio  and  Little  Miami 
Rivers.  At  one  time  the  Miami  floods  came  so  fast 
that  its  highwater  backed  up  into  the  Ohio  and  made 
the  waters  of  that  stream  appear  to  run  up  the  river. 
The  little  village  on  the  Ohio  side,  California,  was 
under  water  to  include  the  second  floor  and  transporta- 
tion through  its  streets  was  by  row  boat  and  steam 
launch.  The  people  of  the  Ohio  Valley  very  promptly 
called  upon  the  Army  for  help,  especially  for  the 
preservation  of  good  order,  which  kind  of  assistance 
we  could  not  give  without  authority  from  Washington. 

Of  course  if  anything  had  occurred  that  evidently 
was  beyond  the  power  of  the  civil  authority  to  con- 
trol, I would  have  used  my  troops  according  to  my 
own  judgment.  As  regarded  mere  fighting  the  flood 
and  supplying  the  needy,  I received  instructions  very 
quickly,  and  I sent  officers  and  enlisted  men  up  and 
down  the  river.  My  detachments  had  charge  of  the 
supplies  which  were  distributed  to  the  sufferers,  and 
my  people  went  up  the  Ohio  almost  to  Pittsburg,  and 
down  that  river  and  the  Mississippi,  and  then  up  the 


516 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Arkansas  and  Red  Rivers  for  hundreds  of  miles.  Most 
of  the  Army  help  that  I heard  of  was  given  by  my 
regiment,  acting  under  the  orders  from  Washington 
and  under  the  supervision  of  Majors  Normoyle  and 
Logan,  Q.  M.  Corps. 

The  Secretary  of  War,  Mr.  Garrison,  and  the  Chief 
of  Staff,  General  Wood,  came  to  look  at  the  situation, 
and  I went  to  Cincinnati  to  report  to  them.  I had 
seen  the  Secretary  at  Washington  a few  weeks  before, 
and  I had  met  the  Chief  of  Staff  on  various  occasions. 
Apparently,  things  were  going  to  their  satisfaction. 

In  June,  1913,  I went  to  West  Point,  N.  Y.,  to  see 
my  boys,  the  older  of  whom  belonged  to  the  graduating 
class,  and  the  younger  to  the  class  of  1916.  As  I 
entered  the  area  of  barracks  through  the  old  sallyport 
I saw  many  cadets  walking  what  we  used  to  call 
“extras.”  I recognized  in  the  nearest  youngster  the 
son  of  one  of  my  classmates.  He  answered  my  greeting 
with  a grin.  He  did  fine  service  in  France. 

I witnessed  the  graduating  ceremonies,  attended 
the  graduating  hop  and  danced.  Mitchell  was  one  of 
the  hop  managers  of  his  class,  and  took  great  pleasure 
in  finding  partners  for  me. 

West  Point  looked  just  as  beautiful  as  ever,  but 
I saw  many  changes,  many  additional  buildings  and 
some  larger  ones.  The  Corps  of  Cadets  seem  to  be 
always  the  same,  and  there  is  no  other  equal  to  it. 

I met  many  old  time  friends  there,  and  one  of 
them  informed  me  that  I had  been  recommended  for 
the  General  Staff  and  that  I would  soon  get  it.  That 
rumor  was  soon  repeated  from  Fort  Leavenworth  and 
from  Washington,  but  when  the  vacancy  in  the  Gen- 
eral Staff  occurred  another  Board  of  Officers  was 
convened,  and  another  man  received  the  detail. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


517 


In  3 months  more  I received  a letter  of  congratula- 
tion on  my  (supposed)  promotion  to  brigadier  general. 
That  letter  came  from  a general  officer  who  knew 
Washington  well  and  he  surely  had  good  reason  to 
think  his  congratulations  justified.  I expect  that  other 
officers  have  similarly  missed  it  by  the  “inch”  which 
is  as  “good  as  a mile.” 

Late  in  May,  1913,  I marched  my  regiment  to 
Fort  Benjamin  Harrison,  Indiana,  for  target  practice. 
Before  starting  I followed  my  usual  plan  relative  to 
the  selection  of  camp  sites  along  the  road.  I wrote, 
or  had  my  adjutant  write,  letters  to  the  postmasters 
of  all  the  towns  where  I wished  to  halt  for  the  night. 
I requested  those  postmasters  to  ascertain,  by  per- 
sonal observation,  where  I could  obtain  in  their 
immediate  neighborhood,  sufficient  ground,  water  and 
fuel  for  my  command.  I informed  each  postmaster 
how  many  men  and  animals  I had,  also  how  much 
land  I would  need  for  camp. 

Very  soon  I received  replies  to  all  my  letters,  and 
before  the  end  of  May  I started  out  with  my  eight 
companies,  leaving  the  Adjutant  and  the  Band  to 
guard  the  post  during  our  absence.  The  weather  was 
cool  during  most  of  the  march,  due  partly  to  recent 
rains. 

One  night  we  camped  in  the  town  of  Harrison, 
through  which  passes  the  boundary  line  between  Ohio 
and  Indiana.  In  a couple  of  weeks  I received  a letter, 
or  postal  card,  originally  written  to  the  Secretary  of 
War,  and  referred  to  me  for  remark.  The  writer  in- 
formed the  Secretary  that,  on  the  occasion  when  the 
9th  Infantry  camped  in  the  town,  he  and  other  gentle- 
men were  surprised  and  shocked  to  see  enlisted  men 
carrying  kegs  of  beer  into  camp. 


518 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I returned  the  paper  to  the  Adjutant  General  of 
the  Army  with  the  information  that  the  writer’s  state- 
ments as  to  facts  were  all  true,  and  that  during  the 
entire  march  the  same  thing  happened  every  day; 
that  an  arrangement  had  been  made  with  some  brew- 
ery, or  other  company  to  furnish  so  many  kegs  at 
each  halt;  that  the  beer  belonged  to  the  men  and  was 
paid  for  by  them;  that  each  day,  immediately  on 
completion  of  the  work  of  pitching  camp,  the  men  of 
each  company,  tin  cups  in  hand,  passed  by  their  com- 
pany beer  keg  and  each  man  received  a soldier’s  tin 
cup  full  of  cold  beer,  and  that,  on  account  of  such 
refreshment  at  a time  when  it  was  so  pleasant  and 
agreeable,  I was  sure  that  the  men  had  been  made 
more  contented  on  the  march.  I also  stated  that  such 
was  our  practice,  whenever  practicable,  when  march- 
ing in  hot  weather.  I never  heard  anything  more  from 
that  postal  card. 

The  23rd  Infantry  was  stationed  at  Fort  Benjamin 
Harrison  at  the  date  of  our  arrival,  but  the  regiment 
was  actually  absent  in  Texas  on  account  of  troubles 
along  the  Mexican  border,  and,  together  with  many 
other  regiments,  was  located  at,  or  near  Galveston, 
from  which  port  a brigade  finally  sailed  for  \ era  Cruz, 
which  port  we  had  already  taken  after  killing  an  un- 
known number  of  Mexicans.  Officially,  that  was  not 
war,  but  the  resemblance  was  strong. 

At  Fort  Benjamin  Harrison  we  had  a very  satis- 
factory target  season,  and  then  we  marched  back 
home  by  a slightly  different  route,  taking  the  usual 
precautions  to  get  the  assistance  of  the  postmasters 
in  selecting  our  camp  sites.  Postmasters  are  employees 
of  the  general  government,  like  ourselves,  and  they 
never  forget  it. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


519 


After  arriving  at  Fort  Thomas  I sent  the  machine 
gun  company  and  mounted  orderlies  to  do  their 
target  practice,  under  the  command  of  Capt.  C.  C. 
Kinney,  Adjutant. 

Those  marches  were  very  instructive  to  all  of  us. 
I continued  my  practice  of  beginning  the  march  each 
day  sufficiently  early  to  enable  us  to  reach  camp  by 
10  or  11  a.m.,  and  I also  tried  the  experiment,  of  having 
each  man  carry  a lunch  on  the  long  marches,  and  of 
making  the  last  halt  and  eating  our  lunches  only  half 
a mile  before  completing  our  day’s  march,  so  that  the 
men  on  reaching  camp  would  be  comparatively  fresh. 
As  a result  of  such  management  the  men  worked 
better,  especially  with  the  assistance  of  the  cool  beer 
given  them  as  soon  as  all  camp  pitching  labor  had  been 
finished.  The  men  then  lay  down  in  the  shade  and 
slept  for  a while.  My  experiment  gave  satisfaction. 

On  the  road  we  noticed  many  wrecks  of  bridges, 
ruined  houses  and  fields  from  the  recent  floods.  Some 
of  the  results  were  wonderful  proofs  of  the  great  force 
with  which  water  works  destruction  when  it  travels 
in  a flood. 

In  August,  1913,  I was  sent  with  one  battalion  of 
the  regiment  to  Camp  Perry,  Ohio,  where  parts  of  the 
3rd  and  17th  infantry  regiments  assisted  us  in  furnish- 
ing the  necessary  working  parties  to  keep  the  target 
range  and  targets  in  proper  condition.  Brigadier 
General  R.  K.  Evans  was  in  charge  of  the  National 
and  International  matches,  and  I was  in  command  of 
all  regular  troops  on  the  range.  My  duty  was  to  see 
that  the  proper  and  necessary  details  of  officers  and 
enlisted  men  were  made  each  day.  At  Camp  Perry 
the  firing  points  were  all  on  one  line,  and  the  targets 
for  firing  at  the  different  ranges  were  put  in  echelon, 


520 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


in  separate  lines  with  backs  toward  Lake  Erie,  into 
which  water  our  bullets  fell.  Such  arrangement  of 
firing  points  and  targets  made  very  safe  shooting. 

There  were  about  2000  competitors,  including  rifle 
teams  from  Switzerland,  Peru,  Argentina,  France, 
Canada  and  all  our  own  states.  Of  course  there  were 
teams  there  from  the  Army,  Navy  and  the  Marine 
Corps. 

During  pistol  practice  an  American  soldier  was 
wounded  by  a French  competitor,  under  circumstances 
which  did  not  give  us  a high  opinion  of  the  French- 
man’s steadiness  and  coolness. 

One  of  the  Peruvian  competitors  was  accidentally 
killed  by  his  comrade,  while  both  were  in  their  tent. 

The  two  incidents  mentioned  were  not  pleasant, 
but  they  were  passed  over  quietly. 

The  Canadians  were  the  best  individual  shots  on 
the  range,  but  our  own  team  beat  them  by  a small 
margin,  because  of  better  team  work.  The  Argentina 
team  also  beat  the  Canadians  in  team  work. 

The  climate  at  Camp  Perry  was  fine  and  bracing. 
My  wife  was  with  me,  there  being  a nice  hotel  at  the 
target  reservation. 

At  the  end  of  our  work  at  that  big  rifle  match  the 
9th  and  3rd  Infantry  battalions  were  ordered  to 
Cleveland,  Ohio,  to  assist  in  a celebration  there  of 
Commodore  Perry’s  victory  on  Lake  Erie,  not  far 
from  the  city.  We  were  given  a fine  camp  site  in  the 
suburbs  of  Cleveland,  down  close  to  the  lake.  We  took 
a prominent  part  in  the  celebration,  and  were  treated 
very  hospitably  by  the  people  of  the  city,  a fine, 
growing  place  of  immense  importance.  We  returned 
to  Fort  Thomas  after  an  absence  of  about  seven 
weeks.  We  saw  the  Mayor  of  Cleveland,  afterwards 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


521 


our  Secretary  of  War,  and  we  listened  to  his  speech 
at  the  ceremony. 

The  fall  and  winter  passed  very  pleasantly  indeed. 
Cincinnati  was  very  convenient,  and  the  people  of 
that  and  other  towns  were  very  kind  and  cordial 
to  us. 

In  October,  1913,  the  field  officers  at  Fort  Thomas 
took  their  annual  test  ride.  I conducted  the  test, 
riding  my  own  horse  Tom  part  of  the  time.  No  one 
was  injured  by  the  exercise;  in  fact  I believe  that  it 
benefited  all  of  us. 

The  son  of  General  Simon  Bolivar  Buckner,  of 
Confederate  army  fame,  was  one  of  our  second  lieu- 
tenants, and  the  General  visited  his  son,  bringing 
Mrs.  Buckner  with  him.  The  General  was  then 
more  than  90  years  old,  but  he  was  very  young  and 
active  for  his  age. 

General  Jesse  M.  Lee  and  Mrs.  Lee  were  also  with 
us,  visiting  their  daughter,  Mrs.  Rethers,  who  was  the 
wife  of  Capt.  Rethers,  9th  Infantry.  The  Captain 
had  no  superior,  as  an  officer,  in  the  regiment.  General 
Lee  was  an  old  time  officer  of  the  9th  Infantry,  and 
had  a wonderful  record  as  an  Indian  man,  having 
been  agent  at  several  Indian  Agencies. 

At  every  post  which  I have  commanded  in  recent 
years  the  troops  have  been  annoyed  by  solicitors  and 
collectors,  who  get  as  close  as  possible  to  the  men  on 
pay  days,  and  place  themselves,  if  possible,  where  the 
men  will  have  to  pass  right  by,  or  through  them  after 
receiving  their  pay  from  the  Government.  At  Fort 
Sam  Houston  in  1908  or  1909,  at  Cebu  in  1910,  or 
1911,  and  at  Fort  Thomas  on  March  4,  1913,  I issued 
orders  prohibiting  those  people  from  being  allowed  to 
thus  annoy  my  men.  Salvation  Army  representatives 


522 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


and  Catholic  Sisters  of  Charity  were  mostly  in  my 
mind  when  I issued  the  orders,  which  were  worded 
practically  alike.  My  last  mentioned  order  was  as 
follows: 


Fort  Thomas,  Ky., 

March  4,  1913. 

Memorandum: 

1.  During  the  payment  of  troops  the  Officer  of  the 
Day  will  see  that  all  solicitors  and  collectors  be  not 
allowed  to  enter  the  building  where  the  payment  is 
taking  place,  or  to  stand  in  the  doorway  of  same,  or 
on  the  cement  walk  leading  from  the  building  to  the 
walk. 

2.  This  is  not  intended  to  prevent  a soldier  from 
paying  any  debt,  or  from  donating  his  money  to  any 
institution,  but  it  is  for  the  purpose  of  allowing  him  to 
dispose  of  his  money  uninfluenced  by  any  one. 

By  order  of  Colonel  Crane. 

(Signed)  C.  C.  Kinney, 

Captain  and  Adjutant  9th  Infantry 

Adjutant. 

The  result  of  my  last  order  was  a complaint  that 
the  Sisters  of  Charity  had  not  been  allowed  to  make 
their  customary  collections  on  pay  day.  The  complaint 
was  made  to  Joseph  Tumulty,  the  President’s  Secre- 
tary, and  it  was  sent  to  me  for  remark.  In  reply  I 
furnished  copies  of  all  my  orders  on  the  subject,  and 
I stated  in  addition,  that  I considered  it  a “hold  up’’ 
and  a robbery  for  those  Sisters  of  Charity  and  Salva- 
tion Army  Sisters  to  waylay  my  men  at  the  pay  table. 
I heard  no  more  of  the  matter. 

I joined  the  Newport  Blue  Lodge  while  serving  at 
Fort  Thomas,  and  enjoyed  many  meetings  before  our 
departure.  Just  before  leaving  I joined  the  Scottish 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


523 


Rite  Masons  in  Covington,  and  took  all  the  degrees 
up  to  include  the  32nd.  From  the  19th  to  the  32nd, 
both  inclusive,  I was  only  obligated,  not  having  time 
to  receive  the  regular  initiations. 

Meanwhile  the  Mexican  question  continued  no 
better,  and  finally,  March  19,  1914,  the  regiment  left 
Fort  Thomas  for  the  Texas  border,  and  reached  Laredo 
on  the  Rio  Grande  March  23rd,  one  day  after  the  3rd 
Battalion,  which  came  from  Fort  Logan  H.  Roots,  Ark. 

While  at  Fort  Thomas  I had  been,  from  time  to 
time,  in  temporary  command  of  the  brigade,  but  not 
long  enough  to  justify  my  going  down  to  Atlanta, 
Ga.,  the  brigade  headquarters.  I was  in  temporary 
command  of  the  brigade  when  ordered  to  the  border, 
the  other  regiment,  the  17th  Inf.,  being  ordered  there 
also. 

Laredo  having  been  selected  as  the  location  for 
brigade  headquarters  I requested  that  the  9th  Infan- 
try might  be  stationed  there.  My  reasons  were  that 
my  regiment  would  be  at  my  place  of  duty  all  the  time; 
I being  next  in  rank  to  the  General  and  would  com- 
mand in  his  absence.  I also  considered  Laredo  as  the 
most  likely  spot  for  trouble  to  start  at,  as  well  as 
being  the  most  important  town  on  the  Rio  Grande 
south  of  El  Paso. 

On  arrival  at  Laredo  we  were  promptly  besieged  by 
requests  and  recommendations  from  certain  citizens 
of  Laredo  to  locate  our  camp  outside  the  town,  where 
our  men  would  be  compelled  to  patronize  the  street 
car  line  when  they  should  wish  to  get  into  town,  but 
I preferred  to  locate  my  camp  so  as  practically,  to  get 
all  the  advantages  of  being  stationed  at  Fort  McIn- 
tosh. Therefore  we  cleared  off  the  ground  next  to 
the  railroad  spur  track  in  the  post  and  pitched  a good 


524 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


camp.  We  killed  a few  rattlesnakes  while  putting  the 
ground  in  proper  condition. 

We  found  the  people  very  much  afraid  of  the  Mexi- 
cans, who  had  a strong  garrison  in  Nueva  Laredo,  and 
the  people  of  Mexican  blood  comprised  three-fourths 
of  the  population  of  Laredo  in  Texas.  We  had  been 
informed  from  Washington  that  the  purpose,  or  object 
of  our  being  ordered  to  the  border  was  “to  allay  the 
apprehensions  of  the  people  of  Laredo  and  Eagle 
Pass”:  the  17th  Infantry  was  sent  to  the  latter  place, 
and  our  station  was  announced  as  being  the  town  of 
Laredo,  not  Fort  McIntosh  where  a squadron  of  the 
14th  Cavalry  was  already  located  and  continued 
to  remain. 

Rumors  of  what  the  Mexicans  were  going  to  do  to 
us  were  frequent,  and  they  continued,  with  short 
interruptions,  till  after  my  retirement.  The  attitude 
of  the  Nueva  Laredo  garrison  was  not  very  friendly, 
and  small  frictions  were  occurring  from  time  to  time. 
We  were  not  allowed  to  cross  the  river  for  any  pur- 
pose, and  two  of  the  noted  cases  in  correspondence 
between  the  two  governments  arose  from  murders  com- 
mitted by  the  Mexicans  at  and  near  Nueva  Laredo. 

In  our  Laredo  I found  my  old  time  friend  Allen 
Walker,  the  efficient  captain  of  Philippine  Scouts.  He 
had  been  retired,  and  was  Deputy  U.  S.  Marshal  at 
Laredo,  a very  important  position.  He  had,  while  a 
young  man,  served  in  the  3rd  Cavalry  and  had  taken 
an  active  part  in  putting  down  the  Garza  attempt  at 
a revolution  in  Mexico,  earning  and  receiving  a medal 
of  honor.  He  was  very  useful  to  us  during  my  two 
years  at  Laredo,  being  very  well  informed,  and  having 
an  authority  which  enabled  him  to  do  some  things 
which  we  could  not  do. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


52  5 


For  the  first  nine  months  I lived  in  the  quarters  of 
the  commanding  officer  at  Fort  McIntosh  which  I 
found  unoccupied.  I took  into  those  quarters  with 
me  my  three  regimental  staff  officers  and  their  wives, 
and  my  own  wife  came  very  soon  after.  We  had  a full 
house.  It  was  my  mess  as  commanding  officer,  and 
under  my  orders  my  regimental  commissary  ran  it  for 
me.  It  was  managed  in  a very  efficient  and  satisfac- 
tory manner,  and  it  was  one  of  the  few  instances 
where  the  ladies  of  a mess  had  nothing  to  say  about 
the  management. 

Seeing  that  my  men  were  already  swimming  in  the 
Rio  Grande  I merely  warned  them,  in  published  infor- 
mation, of  the  dangerous  nature  of  the  current,  but 
I did  not  forbid  them  from  swimming  in  the  river.  My 
reason  for  not  forbidding  their  swimming  in  a danger- 
ous stream  was  the  fact  that  our  orders  contemplated 
instructing  our  men  in  swimming  during  a certain 
period,  and  I expected  to  receive  orders  directing  the 
giving  of  such  instruction. 

Very  soon  a soldier  was  last  seen  swimming  in  the 
Rio  Grande,  and  his  body  was  never  found.  I still 
issued  no  order  forbidding  swimming  in  the  river,  for 
I expected  to  have  to  cross  that  river  under  hostile 
fire  pretty  soon,  and  I wanted  my  men  to  know  the 
best  places  for  doing  so. 

When  our  Navy  took  possession  of  Vera  Cruz  on 
April  21, 1914,  things  got  much  warmer  in  our  vicinity, 
and  hostile  rumors  got  thicker.  For  some  time  I had 
been  placing  cossack  sentry  posts  at  several  places 
along  the  river,  and  I now  increased  the  strength  of 
the  guard  at  the  two  bridges,  one  a railroad  bridge 
and  the  other  a wagon  and  foot  bridge. 

On  April  2?nd  the  Mexican  garrison  began  queer 


526 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


movements  of  trains  loaded  with  troops,  some  of  them 
returning  to  Nueva  Laredo  with  the  information  that 
Monterey  was  no  longer  Huertista,  but  had  become 
Carranzista  from  having  been  captured  by  that  party. 
That  cut  off  the  garrison  of  Nueva  Laredo  from  other 
Huertistas.  Rumors  of  attack  on  us  became  more 
positive,  so  I had  the  battery  of  the  3rd  Field  Artillery, 
under  Capt.  J.  E.  Stephens,  located  out  of  sight  in 
such  position  that  their  guns  would  be  able  to  do  the 
most  damage  to  the  other  side  of  the  river.  Stephens’ 
battery  had  arrived  from  Fort  Sam  Houston  shortly 
before  we  got  to  Laredo.  It  was  a most  valuable 
addition  to  our  force. 

On  April  23rd  the  entire  population  of  Nueva 
Laredo,  male,  female  and  infant,  with  loaded  vehicles 
of  all  sorts  streamed  across  the  international  foot- 
bridge, running  from  some  danger,  but  giving  us  no 
information  as  to  what  was  the  matter,  either  from 
fear  or  ignorance. 

That  sort  of  thing  having  happened  on  several 
previous  occasions  in  the  past  when  the  town  was 
threatened  by  hostile  Mexican  troops,  we  wondered 
all  the  more  because  we  knew  of  none  such  nearer  than 
Monterey.  At  least  three  thousand  people  crossed 
to  our  side  of  the  river  that  day,  with  their  household 
goods  and  everything  they  could  bring  along  with  the 
limited  transportation  available  to  them. 

I was  at  the  bridge  several  times  during  the  day  and 
noticed  them,  and  I tried  to  get  some  information 
from  them  through  our  Customs,  Health  and  Immi- 
gration officers  on  duty  at  the  same  bridge,  but  the 
Mexicans  would  say  nothing,  looking  apprehensive  of 
some  danger  but  obstinately  declining  to  talk.  My 
daily  visits,  to  talk  with  our  American  officials  at  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


527 


bridge  kept  me  in  close  touch  with  the  situation,  for 
those  gentlemen  were  well  acquainted  in  Mexico,  and 
were  constantly  seeing  old  friends  among  the  people 
crossing  the  bridge.  But  that  day  they  could  learn 
nothing. 

On  the  24th  of  April  railroad  trains  on  the  other 
side  were  visible,  all  loaded  and  still  loading  in  Nueva 
Laredo,  switching  and  moving  about.  Apparently  the 
whole  garrison  was  trying  to  do  something,  or  go 
somewhere.  Finally,  a few  minutes  after  our  mid-day 
meal,  we  were  aroused  by  very  loud  explosions  in 
Nueva  Laredo,  followed  by  sounds  of  rifle  firing. 
Running  out  of  my  quarters  I saw  and  heard  more 
explosions  in  Nueva  Laredo,  and  I saw  flames  and 
smoke  rising  from  half  a dozen  of  the  principal  build- 
ings there.  I also  heard  more  rifle  shots,  and  I saw 
some  of  the  trains  moving  off  with  their  loads  of 
Mexican  troops.  Very  promptly  my  mounted  orderly 
appeared,  mounted  and  leading  my  own  good  horse 
Tom,  and  almost  as  soon  the  3rd  Battalion  of  the  9th 
Infantry,  under  Capt.  J.  V.  Heidt,  turned  the  corner 
at  the  adjutant’s  office.  I immediately  placed  myself 
at  their  head  and  marched  into  town,  leaving  instruc- 
tions for  the  1st  Battalion  to  follow,  and  for  the  2nd 
Battalion  to  remain  in  camp  under  arms,  only  two 
companies  of  it  being  available  because  of  having  two 
on  guard  duty. 

I placed  the  3rd  Battalion,  resting  with  flanks  on 
the  two  bridges,  and  then  I rode  around  to  investigate 
conditions.  At  the  railroad  bridge  I found  the  guard 
wide  awake  and  looking  for  more  Mexicans  to  shoot 
at.  2nd  Lieut.  J.  C.  Williams,  the  Officer  of  the  Day, 
commanded  that  guard.  I located  the  1st  Battalion 
on  the  left  of  the  3rd,  and  then  I rode  back  to  the 


528 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


railroad  bridge.  We  were  exceedingly  anxious  to 
preserve  those  two  bridges. 

In  an  hour  there  was  little  left  of  Nueva  Laredo, 
nearly  all  of  the  best  houses  having  been  previously 
prepared  for  burning,  and  at  the  signal  they  were 
nearly  all  set  on  fire.  One  building,  the  store  of  the 
American  Vice  Consul,  Shelby  Theriot,  was  saved  by 
a combination  of  accidents.  It  was  prepared  by  the 
Mexicans  for  burning,  like  the  others,  but  the  fire  was 
put  out  in  the  beginning  by  the  flames  reaching  a 
wooden  overground  cistern,  burning  through  to  the 
water  and  letting  the  water  out  on  the  fire  beneath, 
thus  saving  the  building  and  a valuable  stock  of  goods. 

Shelby  Theriot  was  a good  friend  of  ours.  The 
Consul,  Mr.  Garrett,  had  wisely  come  across  the  river 
a week  or  two  before  the  fire.  His  consulate  was  one 
of  the  first  buildings  fired. 

For  a week  or  two  after  the  departure  of  the 
Huertistas  we  guarded  the  bridges  with  exceeding 
care.  The  Tex-Mex.  R.  R.  Co.,  through  their  capable 
and  courteous  Vice-President,  Silas  W.  DeWolf, 
loaned  us  an  engine  which  was  run  out  on  the  railroad 
bridge  about  half  way  across,  and  its  headlight  lighted 
up  the  Mexican  end  of  the  bridge  so  as  to  give  the 
rifles  of  our  men  command  of  the  entire  length  of  it. 
The  “Motion  Picture”  people  in  Laredo  loaned  us 
their  strong  light  to  locate  at  the  foot  bridge,  and  that 
enabled  my  guards  to  control  that  bridge  also. 

The  day  following  the  fire  a small  number  of  Carran- 
zistas,  sympathisers  and  followers  from  our  side, 
crossed  to  the  other  side  and  organized  some  sort  of 
a city  government,  and  some  few  of  the  fugitives 
returned  to  their  own  town. 

Later  in  the  day,  on  the  25th  of  April,  some  20  or  80 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


529 


... 

irregulars,  mounted  Carranzistas,  galloped  into  Nueva 
Laredo,  through  the  streets  and  down  to  the  foot 
bridge,  yelling  and  firing  their  pistols  and  short  car- 
bines, and  then  took  possession  of  the  town.  For  some 
days  longer  their  garrison  was  only  a little  larger  and 
better,  and  for  many  months  it  did  not  exceed  400 
men,  who  assumed  a very  different  attitude  towards 
Americans  from  that  maintained  by  the  Huertistas. 
The  new  garrison  wanted  to  come  over  to  our  side 
and  be  sociable,  but  our  orders  would  not  permit  that, 
and  we  continued  to  remain  closely  on  our  own  side 
of  the  river.  My  drum  major  was  tried  by  military 
court  and  punished  for  disregarding  the  order  to 
remain  strictly  on  our  own  side  and  for  going  to  the 
Mexican  end  of  the  international  foot  bridge. 

Only  a part  of  the  original  Nueva  Laredo  popula- 
tion returned  to  their  town,  about  two  thousand  out 
of  the  three  thousand  refugees  remaining  in  Laredo,  or 
going  on  to  San  Antonio.  But,  with  the  overthrow  of 
the  Huertistas  the  border  was  relieved  from  immediate 
danger;  that  condition,  however,  was  to  return  later  on. 

In  those  days  I saw  several  times  my  old  time  com- 
rade and  good  friend,  General  A.  C.  Markley,  then 
retired  and  living  in  Laredo,  trying  to  get  some  return 
from  his  onion  farm,  and  having  a hard  time  of  it. 
About  June  1,  1914,  he  went  north  to  see  his  grandson 
at  the  Culver  Military  Academy.  That  boy  was  the 
only  child  of  Ned  Markley,  my  9th  Immune  captain, 
whom  I buried  early  in  1899  at  Santiago,  Cuba. 

The  permanent  brigade  commander,  Brigadier  Gen- 
eral R.  K.  Evans,  returned  from  leave  some  time  in 
July,  1914,  and  then  I reverted  to  my  proper  position 
as  commanding  officer  of  the  troops  stationed  at  Lare- 
do, but  not  including  the  garrison  of  Fort  McIntosh. 


530 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


My  command  on  April  24th  was  my  9th  Infantry  and 
Capt.  Stephens’  battery  of  the  3rd  Field  Artillery. 
About  a month  later  Battery  “E,”  6th  Field  Artillery, 
under  Capt.  Fox  Conner,  joined  us.  To  this  additional 
battery  soon  came  my  son  Carey,  who  was  transferred 
from  Battery  “D,”  at  Brownsville,  Texas.  The 
transfer  was  made  on  the  recommendation  of  the 
temporary  regimental  commander,  Major  McNair, 
who  told  me  that  he  soon  saw  that  he  must  have  an- 
other second  lieutenant  with  that  battery,  and  that  he 
remembered  that  Carey  was  my  son  and  he  knew  that 
he  was  available,  therefore  he  had  requested  the  move. 
I thanked  McNair  very  warmly.  I had  known  him 
when  he  was  a cadet  and  in  my  company  at  West  Point. 

Carey  was  at  Laredo  during  all  my  remaining  time 
there,  excepting  the  last  few  days  when  he  had  to 
return  to  the  Brownsville  district,  being  transferred 
to  the  4th  Field  Artillery  then  under  orders  for 
Panama.  I had  good  opportunity  to  observe  the 
progress  of  my  son,  in  whose  bringing  up  and  educa- 
tion I had  taken  so  much  interest.  When  I found  him 
again  under  my  control  I gave  him  duties  that  would 
increase  his  general  efficiency,  and  round  him  off  as 
an  officer.  I wish  I could  have  had  as  good  an  oppor- 
tunity to  assist  my  son  Mitchell. 

In  addition  to  seeing  Carey’s  performance  as  an 
officer  I frequently  had  him  hunting  with  me,  in  the 
chapparal  up  and  down  the  Rio  Grande,  after  deer, 
the  wild  hog  of  that  section,  quail,  Mexican  pigeons 
and  ducks,  and  I discovered  that  he  could  orient  him- 
self in  a strange  locality  better  than  I could,  and  get 
back  to  camp  as  well  as  I,  even  though  I did  carry  a 
compass.  During  our  two  hunting  seasons  at  Laredo 
we  both  frequently  killed  our  limit  of  quail  allowed 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


531 


in  one  day,  and  for  the  two  seasons  we  both  killed 
our  limit  of  deer.  That  experience  will,  some  day,  be 
of  great  benefit  to  him,  and  it  has  already  increased 
his  value  as  an  officer. 

In  August,  1914,  I was  ordered  to  command  a camp 
of  the  organized  militia  of  Oklahoma,  near  South 
McAlester.  My  wife  and  I took  advantage  of  the 
opportunity  to  go  a little  further  and  see  my  mother 
at  Eufaula,  where  she  was  living  with  my  brother 
Tom’s  widow  and  family  of  little  ones.  My  mother’s 
children  owe  a deep  debt  of  gratitude  to  my  sister-in- 
law,  for  her  kind  and  tender  treatment  of  our  mother. 

My  brother  Balfour  came  over  from  Fort  Smith, 
Ark.,  and  my  brother  Gordon’s  widow  came  down 
from  Checotah  to  see  us. 

Capt.  Wagner  and  his  company  of  the  17th  In- 
fantry represented  the  regular  Army  at  the  camp, 
acting  as  models  and  instructors.  The  entire  detach- 
ment performed  their  duties  to  my  entire  satisfac- 
tion, due  chiefly,  in  my  opinion,  to  the  efforts  and 
efficiency  of  Capt.  Wagner  himself.  For  several  weeks 
we  worked  with  the  Oklahoma  militia,  very  willing 
and  hard  working  fellows,  but  in  my  report  of  my  work 
with  them  I repeated  what  the  War  Department  has 
undoubtedly  been  told  frequently,  viz:  that  the 

militia  came  to  camp  without  the  proper  and  neces- 
sary knowledge  of  close  order  drill;  that  they  came  to 
camp  so  recently  and  hastily  recruited  that  they  could 
not  possess  such  knowledge;  that  too  much  valuable 
time  was  therefore  wasted  in  preliminary  drills  and 
exercises,  leaving  too  little  time  available  for  more 
advanced  work;  that  the  militia  had,  in  my  opinion, 
the  wrong  idea;  wishing  to  fly  and  believing  that  they 
could  do  so,  before  they  could  crawl;  that  it  would 


532 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


require  two  months  more  work  before  they  could  be 
qualified  to  fight  with  Mexicans,  and  at  least  six 
months  more  before  they  could  meet  first  class  troops; 
this,  even  if  commanded  by  a regular  colonel,  assisted 
by  several  regulars  commanding  battalions.  My 
estimate  was  really  too  favorable,  unless  all  field 
officers  and  regimental  staff  could  be  regulars,  and 
the  time  for  target  practice  added  to  the  period 
specified. 

We  have  read  in  the  early  accounts  of  the  great 
World  War  just  ended  in  Europe  that  the  British 
carefully  and  laboriously  trained  their  volunteers  for 
practically  one  year  before  allowing  them  to  look  at 
the  German  trenches.  The  greatest  danger  that  con- 
fronts us  is  the  belief  of  our  people  that  a few  days 
training  will  make  a soldier  of  a man,  fitting  him  to 
contend  with  regulars  like  those  of  Germany,  for  in- 
stance. Almost  equally  great  danger  is  caused  by  the 
ignorance  of  our  people  regarding  the  length  of  time 
that  the  enemy  would  allow  us  before  making  us 
engage  in  battle.  For  many  years  the  Army  has  been 
trying  to  get  our  people  to  properly  understand 
the  danger,  and  to  prepare  to  meet  it.  Our  efforts 
have  not  always  been  gratefully  received.  The 
following  copy  of  an  order  which  was  really  issued 
needs  no  remark. 


War  Department, 
Washington,  February  23,  1915. 

General  Orders, 

No.  10. 

Officers  of  the  Army  will  refrain,  until  further 
orders,  from  giving  out  for  publication  any  interview, 
statement,  discussion  or  article  on  the  military  situ- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


533 


ation  in  the  United  States  or  abroad,  as  any  expression 
of  their  views  on  this  subject  at  present  is  prejudicial 
to  the  best  interests  of  the  service. 

By  order  of  the  Secretary  of  War: 
(Signed)  H.  L.  Scott, 

(2260070,  A.  G.  O.)  Brigadier  General,  Chief  of  Staff. 
Official : 

(Signed)  H.  P.  McCain, 

The  Adjutant  General. 

That  order  has  not  been  revoked,  so  far  as  I know, 
and  I have  looked  diligently  for  it.  We  could  not 
understand  the  issuing  of  such  an  order  at  such  a 
time,  but  we  obeyed  it  and  kept  out  of  print  anything 
about  our  unprepared  condition,  and  our  sympathies, 
as  between  the  opposing  nations.  But  we  talked  among 
ourselves,  and  one  day  at  Laredo  the  wife  of  one  of  my 
captains  gave  me  a typewritten  copy  of  the  following 
companion  piece  to  that  which  was  repeated  some 
years  ago  by  Capt.  Coghlan  of  our  Navy  at  a banquet 
in  New  York. 

DER  KAISER  UND  DER  CROWN  PRINCE. 

Der  Kaiser  calls  der  Crown  Prince  in, 

Und  say  to  him,  “Mein  Son, 

I tinks  we  go  und  licks  der  vorldt. 

Dot  gif’s  us  lots  of  fun.” 

Der  Crown  Prince  say,  “Perhaps  ve  can’t.” 

Der  Kaiser  schlapps  der  table, 

“E-e-eeef  I could  lick  der  vorldt; 

By  Gott,  mein  son,  I’m  able. 

Dose  Frenchmens,  vot  is  dem  to  us? 

I crush  dem  mit  mein  thumb, 

In  yoost  one  week,  in  Paris  street, 

You  hear  mein  Deutchers  drum. 


534 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


In  spite  of  treaties  I vill  show, 

Der  Belgians  who  I am; 

I’m  yoost  like  Baron  Munchausen,  kid. 

Mein  vordt  ain’t  vort  a damn. 

I come  right  back  from  Paris  qvick, 

Und  tackle  him,  der  Czar, 

I bet  he  say  damn  suddenly, 

Vot  fighting  mens  you  are. 

Und  leetle  George  of  England,  too, 

I turn  him  on  my  knee, 

Und  spank  him  so  he  cries  out  loud, 

‘Ach,  Kaiser,  pardon  me.’ 

Dose  yellow  Japs  dot  talk  so  big, 

I gif  dose  fellows  hell, 

I make  dem  tink  der  planet  Mars, 

On  top  of  dem  has  fell. 

Und,  if  der  Yankees  gif  me  sass, 

I go  right  over  dere, 

Und  tear  der  Gott  Tamt  country  up, 

I vill,  by  Gott,  I schwear. 

You  don’t  know  me  yet,  mein  son, 

You  never  seen  me  fight, 

But  dots  der  Gottalmightiest  ding. 

In  vich  I take  delight.” 

But  we  remembered  so  well  the  meaning  of  General 
Orders  No.  10  that  I heard  of  no  one  repeating  that 
piece  anywhere  during  the  war,  even  after  we  joined 
it,  although  it  is  pretty  sure  that  many  of  us  wished 
to  do  something  like  that  many  times. 

On  returning  from  Oklahoma  I resumed  my  regular 
duties,  and  my  recreation  which  was  at  that  time  of 
the  year  hunting  “white  wings,”  a wild  pigeon  from 
Mexico.  That  bird  comes  over  to  our  side  of  the  Rio 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


535 


Grande  only  during  the  hottest  part  of  the  year.  It 
is  smaller  than  our  tame  pigeon,  and  has  a tail  of  the 
same  shape.  It  has  some  white  along  the  wing  which 
shows  while  in  flight.  It  is  larger  than  our  turtle  dove, 
and  is  brighter  in  color.  It  differs  most  from  the  turtle 
dove  in  the  shape  of  the  tail,  which  with  the  dove  is 
pointed. 

The  white  wings  come  across  the  Rio  Grande  to  our 
water  tanks  and  water  holes  for  water,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  and  for  an  hour  or  two  their  flight  furnishes 
good  wing  shooting.  On  hunts  for  them  I always  took 
along  one  or  two  of  my  officers,  hunting  oftenest  with 
my  son  Carey  and  Lieut.  Lewis.  Watermelon  never 
tasted  so  well  as  when  eaten  on  those  hot  days  while 
hunting  white  wings.  We  always  got  the  watermelon 
from  the  big  ice  box  of  Bruni,  the  dealer,  in  Laredo. 

On  November  1st  the  hunting  season  for  deer  and 
quail  began,  and  quite  frequently  I hunted  both  kinds 
of  game.  Even  the  country  up  and  down  the  Rio 
Grande  is  now  fenced  in,  and  most  of  the  fields  and 
pastures  are  posted,  and  hunting  in  them  requires 
permission  from  the  owner.  When  I first  saw  the  Rio 
Grande  in  1877  there  were  no  fences  except  those 
around  small  cultivated  fields  and  small  pastures  close 
to  the  dwelling  house. 

In  hunting  out  from  Laredo  in  1914,  1915  and  1916, 
and  even  since  then,  I found  that  I could  still  hold 
my  own  in  shooting  with  rifle  and  shotgun,  and  even 
in  finding  the  game,  whether  deer,  jabalina  or  quail. 
It  pleased  me  fully  as  much  to  learn  that  I could  still 
find  the  deer  as  it  did  to  shoot  at  him. 

On  those  hunts  for  deer,  lasting  four  or  five  days, 
I would  take  with  me  an  extra  shotgun  and  some 
cartridges  for  the  use  of  the  enlisted  men  about  camp. 


536 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


That  kept  the  men  contented,  and  it  supplied  our 
table  with  excellent  small  game. 

One  day,  about  25  miles  west  of  Encinal,  a corporal 
of  my  party  was  out  hunting  with  my  extra  shotgun, 
a 16-gauge  double  barrel.  He  had  only  the  smallest 
kind  of  shot,  but  he  was  tired  of  shooting  quail  and 
wanted  to  shoot  at  bigger  game,  as  some  of  the  rest 
of  us  were  doing.  So,  the  corporal  left  the  quail  and 
went  after  deer.  By  the  merest  accident  he  got  a very 
close  shot  at  the  biggest  buck  that  I have  seen  killed 
along  the  Rio  Grande.  Using  both  barrels  at  the  same 
time,  with  the  deer  only  15  or  20  yards  away,  the 
corporal  killed  the  animal,  and  received  a much  bruised 
shoulder.  But  the  shoulder  did  not  bother,  and  the 
ignorant  fellow  ran  and  jumped  on  the  dying  buck  to 
make  him  stop  struggling. 

From  that  day  my  small  bore  shotgun  was  very 
popular  with  the  enlisted  men  of  the  9th  Infantry, 
and  on  that  same  hunt  another  man  killed  a jabalina 
with  it.  On  the  strength  of  its  performance  on  those 
hunts  the  gun  was  much  desired  by  one  of  my  ser- 
geants who  had  used  it,  and  he  offered  to  give  me  for 
it  a new  Winchester  pump  shotgun,  12  gauge.  We 
“swapped”  shotguns. 

After  living  for  nine  months  in  the  quarters  of  the 
commanding  officer  at  Fort  McIntosh  we  had  to  move 
out,  to  make  way  for  a newly  arrived  field  officer  of 
the  cavalry.  We  had  been  very  fortunate  in  being 
allowed  to  occupy  those  quarters.  But  now  my  staff 
officers  and  I had  to  get  out  and  find  quarters  where  we 
individually  could  do  it.  My  wife  and  I landed  splen- 
didly on  our  feet  at  the  residence  of  Silas  W.  DeWolf, 
Vice-President  of  the  Tex-Mex.  R.  R.  Co.,  and  for 
about  14  months  we  were  most  agreeably  and  com- 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


537 


fortably  housed,  and  treated  very  kindly  and 
courteously. 

The  regiment  had  its  first  target  practice  on  the 
old  target  range,  on  the  old  Austin  road,  about  seven 
miles  from  Laredo. 

That  was  the  last  target  practice  on  that  range, 
for  Mr.  Ortiz  would  no  longer  rent,  or  lease  the  ground, 
and  we  had  to  look  for  another  range.  A very  good  one 
was  found  on  the  land  of  Mr.  Bruni,  whose  land  was 
located  down  the  river,  while  that  of  Ortiz  was  to  the 
east  and  north  of  Laredo.  Those  two  gentlemen  were 
large  cattle  owners,  with  big  pastures,  and  I was 
under  obligation  to  both  of  them  for  permission  to 
hunt  on  their  lands. 

In  the  autumns  of  1914,  and  1915,  we  had  our 
annual  test  rides,  using  the  wagon  road  to  Austin, 
along  the  railroad.  I had  Lieut.  Lewis  measure  ten 
miles  of  that  road.  I had  company  on  those  rides.  We 
rode  twenty  miles  before  lunch  and  ten  miles  after, 
which  arrangement  made  the  test  an  easy  one. 

I have  been  particular  to  make  mention  of  the 
different  test  rides  because  of  the  report  made  by 
the  two  young  surgeons  at  Cebu  that  I had  “arterio 
schlerosis,”  incipient  hardening  of  the  arteries,  I be- 
lieve, and  I have  also  had  in  mind  the  refusal  of  the 
major  surgeon  at  West  Point,  1890,  to  accept  me  for  a 
15  years’  insurance  policy,  because  of  his  belief  that 
I had  a heart  that  would  cease  to  beat  if  tested  by 
another  attack  of  rheumatism.  In  the  same  manner 
and  for  similar  reason  I have  not  forgotten  my  stom- 
ach troubles  of  1907,  which  I do  not  believe  should 
have  been  allowed  to  make  necessary  any  sick  leave 
at  all. 

At  Laredo  we  had  many  instructive  field  exercises 


538 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


and  problems,  and  in  our  post  graduate  course  for 
officers  we  had  many  instructive  map  problems.  When 
the  entire  regiment  was  engaged  in  a field  exercise 
the  problem  was  gotten  up  by  me,  and  I almost  invari- 
ably commanded  one  side.  Sometimes  we  had  the 
cavalry  and  artillery  work  with  us,  and  on  such  occa- 
sions I took  the  same  part,  both  in  getting  up  the 
problem  and  in  commanding  the  troops.  I always 
preferred  to  originate  and  prepare  my  own  problems, 
whenever  the  entire  regiment  was  to  be  engaged,  or  if 
I was  booked  for  an  active  part.  The  rough  ground 
between  Laredo  and  the  cemetery  furnished  excellent, 
but  limited  opportunity  for  field  exercises,  and  the 
roads  to  Corpus  Cristi  and  Brownsville  had  good 
ground  for  the  movement  of  troops. 

The  regiment  was  in  excellent  physical  condition; 
indeed,  I never  saw  it  otherwise,  though  I must  admit 
that  the  fine  regimental  feeling  which  I had  found  in 
the  9th  Infantry  on  joining,  was  much  weakened  by 
the  addition  of  so  many  new  officers,  so  nearly  at  the 
same  time,  during  the  last  two  or  three  years  of  my 
service  with  the  regiment.  But  I believe  that  the  good 
old  spirit  remained  just  as  strong  as  ever  with  the 
enlisted  men. 

During  my  second  game  season  at  Laredo  I hunted 
chiefly  with  my  son  Carey,  sometimes  taking  with  us 
Sergeant  McBride  of  the  battery,  a Kansas  man  who 
had  never  shot  at  a deer  before  coming  to  Laredo. 
That  soldier  was  the  best  natural  hunter,  and  the  most 
successful  one,  that  I ever  saw.  He  was  also  a fine 
man  and  an  excellent  comrade  on  a camp  hunt,  and 
that  is  a good  time  to  gauge  a man,  in  many  respects. 

During  my  last  hunt  from  Laredo,  immediately 
following  Christmas  of  1915,  we  hunted  on  the  land 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


539 


of  L.  R.  Ortiz,  and  camped  18  miles  from  Laredo,  on 
the  old  San  Antonio  road,  at  a big  tank.  After  several 
days  hunting,  on  December  28th,  when  the  sun  was 
just  rising,  I was  in  the  bushes  two  miles  from  camp. 
There  was  a cold  wind  blowing  and  my  eyes  were 
watery,  but  I saw  well  enough  to  distinguish,  not  more 
than  25  yards  from  me,  the  antlers  of  a very  large 
buck  which  was  looking  at  me  over  the  top  of  a very 
bushy  bush.  I could  plainly  see  the  head  and  part 
of  the  neck,  and  I aimed  at  the  biggest  part  of  the 
neck,  and  fired.  My  next  shot,  fired  as  he  turned  to 
the  right  about  on  his  hind  feet,  also  missed,  and  my 
big  buck  ran  off.  Then  I felt  somewhat  as  I did  many 
years  before,  when  I let  that  big  grizzly  bear  get  away 
from  under  that  juniper  tree,  but  I hunted  on,  and 
I did  not  have  to  wait  long  to  get  another  chance,  to 
my  great  surprise  because  of  the  wariness  of  big  bucks. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  not  far  from  the 
scene  of  my  bad  luck  in  the  morning,  while  carefully 
going  through  the  bushes  about  2 o’clock,  I saw 
through  an  opening  in  the  bushes,  a very  large  buck 
lying  down  in  the  shade  of  a tall  bush,  with  his  back 
to  me.  Taking  careful  and  deliberate  aim  I fired. 
The  big  buck  made  only  the  slightest  movement,  and 
died.  I drew  my  deer,  and  later  in  the  day  I got 
Carey  to  carry  him,  with  my  assistance,  to  his  auto, 
several  hundred  yards  away.  I got  a good  man  in 
Laredo,  named  Muter,  to  mount  the  buck’s  head  and 
neck.  That  fine  specimen  of  Muter’s  work  now  adorns 
our  dining  room,  on  Grayson  Street,  San  Antonio. 

Always  McBride  beat  us  hunting  and  shooting,  but 
it  was  impossible  to  be  envious  of  such  a fine  fellow. 

Late  in  January,  1916,  my  son  Carey  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  4th  Field  Artillery,  and  went  to  join 


540 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


his  new  regiment  near  Brownsville,  Texas,  going  down 
the  river  road  in  his  own  auto,  with  a soldier  com- 
panion. 

My  wife  and  I wished  to  hurry  up  the  building  of 
the  house  on  our  lot  on  Grayson  Street  which  we  had 
purchased  in  October,  1915,  during  a short  trip  to 
San  Antonio.  We  wished  to  get  it  finished  in  time  to 
allow  us  to  go  and  witness  the  graduating  exercises  of 
Mitchell  at  West  Point,  and  then  go  on  to  Eagle  River, 
Wisconsin,  for  two  or  three  months’  outing  among 
those  beautiful  lakes  where  I went  in  October*  1907, 
from  Chicago,  and  killed  eleven  grouse.  My  retire- 
ment for  age  was  booked  for  April  30,  1916,  and  for 
the  purpose  of  hurrying  the  building  of  our  house 
I got  a leave  of  absence  to  take  effect  March  1,  1916. 

It  was  hard  to  leave  the  regiment  which  I had  com- 
manded for  more  than  eight  years,  longer  than  any 
other  colonel  except  George  Wright,  the  first  colonel, 
and  John  H.  King,  the  second.  I had  some  warm 
friends  among  the  officers  of  the  regiment,  and  I felt 
that  I was  very  close  to  my  enlisted  men  and  that  I 
had  their  sympathetic  support  always.1  I had  re- 
frained from  getting  detached  service,  in  order  to 
remain  with  my  regiment  and  with  it  engage  in  real 
war.  I would  not  advise  any  other  officer  to  stick  so 
close  to  regimental  duty  as  I did.  In  order  to  get  what 
he  has  earned  and  deserves  in  the  way  of  promotion, 
an  officer  should  be  well  known,  personally,  to  the 
“powers  that  be’’  in  Washington.  It  is  natural  for 
one  to  help  one’s  own  friends,  and  it  applies  even  to 
the  War  Department. 

While  on  the  Rio  Grande  I felt  sure  of  war  with 

1 A 9th  Infantry  Sergeant  said  of  me:  “He  was  the  strictest, 
but  the  justest  Colonel  we  ever  had.” 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


541 


Mexico,  when  the  Navy  took  Vera  Cruz  on  April  21, 
1914,  and  again  when  Francisco  Villa  attacked  Colum- 
bus, New  Mexico,  on  March  9,  1916,  and  many  times 
between  those  dates  I was  exceedingly  hopeful, 
feeling  that  just  cause  had  been  given,  over  and  over 
again.  Before  the  organized  militia  was  called  out 
following  the  Columbus  incident  I requested  a briga- 
dier general’s  commission  in  the  volunteers  which  I 
was  sure  would  soon  be  called  for,  but  nothing  came 
of  such  small  affairs. 

I was  thus  given  lots  of  time  to  devote  to  the 
building  of  our  house.  My  wife  had  ideas  about  the 
rooms,  closets,  stairs,  butler’s  pantry,  kitchen  and 
attic  which  she  wished  to  see  carried  out  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  our  own  house,  and  I was  very  willing. 
Before  leaving  Laredo  my  wife  had  constructed  her 
own  scale,  and,  with  no  drawing  instrument  except  a 
ruler  and  a lead  pencil,  she  drew  a fine  plan  of  the 
house  on  both  floors.  We  awarded  the  building  con- 
tract to  a friend  of  my  young  manhood  at  old  Inde- 
pendence, Geo.  A.  Davis,  and  then  for  many  weeks 
we  watched  the  house  grow.  The  result  was  a very 
commodious  and  convenient  house  to  live  in. 

We  have,  since  retirement,  seen  a number  of  our 
best  friends  from  the  regiment.  Rethers,  Kinney, 
Smith,  Loeb  and  Hanson  were  all,  at  some  time,  mem- 
bers of  my  regimental  staff,  and  Lewis  was  a battalion 
staff  officer  and  my  hunting  comrade.  All  of  those 
officers  came  to  see  us  while  the  house  was  being  built. 
And  my  old  regimental  sergeant  major,  Lynch,  proved 
his  staunch  loyalty  by  visiting  his  retired  colonel. 

In  addition,  we  have  since  retirement  seen  Carey 
en  route  to  West  Point,  N.  Y.,  to  instruct  “plebes”  at 
the  Military  Academy,  and  Mitchell  stopped  while 


542 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


en  route  to  join  his  regiment  in  Arizona  at  the  expira- 
tion of  his  graduation  leave  in  1916.  Although  I have 
had  the  bitter  disappointment  of  being  retired  as  a 
colonel  after  practically  a lifetime  of  excellent  service, 
I have  been  very  fortunate  in  getting  both  my  sons 
appointed  to  our  Military  Academy,  and  to  have  seen 
them  begin  what  I hope  will  be  long  and  honorable 
careers  in  the  Army. 

While  watching  our  house  grow  I was  called  away 
to  attend  the  funeral  of  my  brother  Will,  who  died 
in  Houston,  Texas,  in  June,  1916.  He  named  his  one 
son  for  me,  and  I named  my  older  boy  for  him  and 
for  my  father. 

After  returning  in  1902  from  the  Philippines  I in- 
sured the  lives  of  both  of  my  sons  till  about  their 
25th  birthdays,  in  their  own  favor  on  maturing,  and 
each  in  favor  of  the  other  in  case  of  death.  That  was 
to  make  sure  that  both  would  have  something  to 
start  life  on. 

My  own  policy  in  the  Penn  Mutual  Co.  having 
matured  I invested  the  small  amount  in  acreage  prop- 
erty just  outside  of  Dallas,  Texas,  close  to  a country 
club.  My  nephew  Harry  Bondies  did  it  for  me.  That 
proved  to  be  a good  investment,  for  the  property 
increased  fast  in  value,  and  late  in  1911  it  was  sold  at 
such  a profit  as  to  give  me  the  means  to  get  a home 
of  my  own  after  retirement,  and  here  I will  live  the 
balance  of  my  life. 


Since  writing  all  the  foregoing,  excepting  several 
personal  references,  Germany’s  savage  and  unre- 
stricted use  of  submarine  warfare  has  at  last  driven 
our  President  and  Congress  to  declare  that  a state  of 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


543 


war  existed  between  us  and  that  country.  War  was 
declared  on  April  7,  1917,  a date  long  to  be  remem- 
bered in  this  country.  Our  President  has  slowly  come 
to  see  things  in  their  proper  light,  both  as  regards 
our  relations  with  Germany  and  our  utter  inability 
to  hold  our  own,  to  the  extent  that  he  has  really 
guided  Congress  to  the  above  declaration  of  war,  and 
to  the  introduction  in  Congress  of  Bills  advocating 
for  the  present  emergency  a selective  draft  and  uni- 
versal liability  to  military  service  while  the  emergency 
lasts.  Off  goes  my  hat  to  President  Wilson  for  that! 
But  I still  believe  that  he  should  have  taken  a sterner 
attitude  towards  Mexico. 

I will  now,  in  a few  days,  apply  for  active  duty,  and 
I hope  yet  to  better  my  military  record. 


CHAPTER  XX 


After  waiting  a few  days  to  see  if  any  calls  for 
volunteers  would  be  made  by  the  President  and  seeing 
none,  I made,  about  April  21st,  an  official  request  for 
active  duty  with  troops,  and  forwarded  with  it  the 
report  of  physical  examination  by  an  Army  surgeon 
who  had  served  with  me  in  the  Philippines,  and  very 
recently  at  Laredo.  Captain  Phillips  gave  me  a 
harder  examination  than  I had  ever  before  been  given, 
all  at  my  request.  My  blood  pressure  was  unusually 
good  for  one  of  my  age,  he  said. 

General  Pershing  was  department  commander,  and 
I requested  of  him  the  command  of  the  recruit  and 
casual  camp  then  run  as  a part  of  Fort  Sam  Houston, 
stating  that  if  granted  that  duty  I would  make  no 
trouble  for  the  Commanding  Officer  of  Fort  Sam 
Houston,  my  junior  in  rank.  On  such  condition  my 
request  was  approved  when  forwarded  to  Washington. 

Before  giving  a description  of  my  own  very  unim- 
portant services  in  the  great  World  War  I will  give 
some  of  the  dates  of  the  events  which  especially  con- 
cerned us  and  our  Country.  The  dates  are  copied 
from  newspapers. 

1914 

June  28 — Murder  of  Archduke  Franz  Ferdinand  of 
Austria  at  Sarajevo. 


644 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


545 


July  28 — Austria  declared  war  on  Serbia. 

August  1 — Germany  declared  war  on  Russia  and 
invaded  Luxemburg. 

August  3 — Germany  declared  war  on  France. 

August  4 — England  declared  war  on  Germany. 

August  23 — Battle  of  Mons. 

September  6— First  Battle  of  the  Marne  began. 
September  16 — Russians  driven  out  of  East  Prussia 
(beginning  of  Hindenburg’s  fame). 

Oct.  9 — Germans  occupied  Antwerp. 

Dec.  8 — Naval  battle  of  Falkland  Islands. 

December  24 — First  German  air  raid  on  England. 

1915 

Feb.  18 — German  submarine  blockade  of  England 
began. 

Feb.  19— Naval  attack  on  the  Dardanelles  began. 
April  17 — Second  battle  of  the  Iser;  Germans  use  gas 
for  the  first  time. 

May  2 — Russians  defeated  at  the  Dunajec. 

May  7 — The  Lusitania  sunk. 

May  23 — Italy  declared  war  on  Austria. 

June  2 — Italians  crossed  the  Isonzo. 

Oct.  5 — Allies  landed  at  Saloniki. 

1916 

Feb.  11 — Battle  of  Verdun  begun. 

May  31 — Jutland  naval  battle. 

July  1 — Battle  of  the  Somme  begun. 

Sept.  15 — First  appearance  of  the  tanks. 

1917 

Jan.  21 — Germany  announced  unrestricted  submarine 
warfare. 

Feb.  3 — United  States  severed  diplomatic  relations 
with  Germany. 

March  9 — Russian  revolution  begun. 

March  12 — Czar  of  Russia  abdicated. 


546 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


April  7 — United  States  declared  war  on  Germany. 

June  26 — First  American  troops  landed  in  France. 

August  19— Italians  began  drive  on  the  Isonzo. 

Nov.  6 — Russia  seized  by  the  Bolsheviki. 

Nov.  9 — Italians  defeated  on  the  Piave. 

Dec.  9 — Jerusalem  captured  by  the  British. 

1918 

March  3 — Bolshevik  peace  signed  with  Germany  at 
Brest-Litovsk. 

March  2 — German  drive  on  the  Somme  began. 

April  14 — General  Foch  made  commander -in-chief  of 
the  allied  forces. 

July  6 — Americans  attacked  at  Chdteau  Thierry, 
beginning  allied  counter  offensive. 

Aug.  25 — British  smashed  Hindenburg  line. 

Sept.  12-15 — Americans  wiped  out  the  San  Mihiel 
salient. 

Sept.  30 — Bulgaria  surrendered. 

Oct.  6 — Germany  asked  President  Wilson  to  arrange 
an  armistice. 

Oct.  23 — President  Wilson  sent  the  German  armistice 
proposals  to  the  allies. 

Oct.  25 — Italians  began  offensive  on  the  Piave 

Oct.  30 — Turkey  surrendered. 

Nov.  3 — Austria  surrendered. 

Nov.  4 — Versailles  conference  agreed  on  armistice 
terms. 

Nov.  6 — Berlin  sent  armistice  commission  to  the 
west  front. 

Nov.  9 — Kaiser  abdicated. 

Nov.  10 — Armistice  signed,  12:40  a.m. 


Prior  to  our  entrance  into  the  war  the  Germans  in 
their  utter  contempt  for  us,  had  violated  our  neutrality 
in  almost  every  conceivable  manner.  It  seemed  impos- 
sible for  them  to  hit  our  cheek  often  enough  to  pro- 
voke a counter  stroke.  It  may  possibly  have  been 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


547 


more  just,  more  patriotic,  better  in  every  way  for  us 
to  have  waited  so  long,  but  I still  believe  that  we 
should  have  entered  the  war  promptly  after  the  sink- 
ing of  the  Lusitania,  May  7,  1915.  The  expression  of 
our  President,  “Too  proud  to  fight,”  was  well  rubbed 
in  on  Americans  in  allied  countries  before  our  Presi- 
dent had  made  up  our  minds  to  fight.  He  really  was 
slow  in  following  public  opinion,  and  in  taking  action 
urgently  demanded  by  the  people.  After  announcing 
our  stand  our  record  was  splendid;  the  American 
soldier  and  sailor  never  did  better;  we  put  renewed 
fighting  spirit  in  the  allies,  and  we  showed  the  Germans 
that  they  had  woefully  misunderstood  us.  Our  assist- 
ance put  an  end  to  the  war.  But  all  of  that  is  well 
set  forth  in  many  books,  especially  in  Frank  H. 
Simonds’  great  book.  My  part  in  the  war  was  so  small 
that  I am  not  entitled  to  wear  any  “World  War” 
badge.  But  I will  go  ahead  with  my  story. 

My  request  for  command  of  the  recruit  and  casual 
camp  having  received  favorable  consideration  at 
Washington  I began  duty  there  on  May  3,  1917,  under 
the  tuition  and  instruction  of  Col.  Grote  Hutcheson, 
and  I remained  under  him  much  longer  than  I believed, 
and  still  believe  was  necessary.  In  order  to  avoid  the 
necessity  of  having  to  instruct  my  successor  so  long 
I immediately  began  the  preparation  of  a carefully 
written  description  of  the  duties  of  every  desk  in  my 
camp,  and  my  written  instructions  for  each  officer 
and  assistant  made  such  duties  so  easily  understood 
that  when  I was  relieved  I did  not  have  to  remain  with 
my  successor  a single  day. 

In  that  camp  were  examined  and  enlisted  thousands 
of  men  during  the  next  few  months,  and  many  casuals 
were  received  and  forwarded  to  their  proper  stations. 


548 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I was  back  on  active  duty  again,  but  I wished  to  do 
real  soldier  duty  and  not  spend  my  time  with  recruits. 
In  the  latter  part  of  August,  1917,  I was  relieved  from 
that  duty  and  ordered  to  the  Agricultural  and  Me- 
chanical College  of  Texas,  the  same  that  I served 
with  in  1882  and  1883.  I was  far  from  pleased  with 
my  new  detail,  and  had  evaded  the  duty  when  pre- 
viously suggested  to  me.  With  the  order  to  college 
duty  vanished  all  my  hopes  of  foreign  service. 

On  my  recommendation  Major  John  Cotter,  retired 
from  the  9th  Infantry  in  March,  1909,  was  given  my 
duties  at  the  camp,  and  I reported  at  the  college  on  Sep- 
tember 7th.  My  wife  joined  me  there  ten  days  later. 

The  session  began  on  September  18th.  I had  three 
assistants  in  my  office  and  in  academic  work.  Those 
men  were  retired  non-commissioned  officers,  and  were 
excellent  men.  There  were  also  two  other  retired 
non-commissioned  officers  acting  as  night  watchmen, 
and  they  were  good  men,  too.  I was  allowed  a stenog- 
rapher, and  she  was  a good  one.  I found  among  the 
professors  one  old  time  friend,  Robert  Smith,  and 
in  Bryan  I found  Smith’s  former  chief,  Mclnnis, 
a banker. 

I was  given  a good  set  of  quarters  and  $600  a year 
by  the  college. 

The  institution  had  been  greatly  enlarged  in  every 
way,  and  the  attendance  the  previous  year  had  been 
nearly  1200  cadets,  all  more  than  16  years  old.  The 
college  had  accepted  the  Reserved  Officers’  Training 
Corps  system  prescribed  by  General  Orders  No.  49, 
W.  D.  of  1916.  The  Corps  of  Cadets  was  organized 
as  two  regiments  of  8 companies  each,  a lieutenant 
colonel  commanding  each  incomplete  regiment  and 
a cadet  colonel  commanding  the  cadet  corps.  The 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


549 


college  had  been  for  years  designated  by  the  War 
Department  as  one  of  the  “distinguished”  colleges  of 
the  United  States. 

An  assistant  from  the  Canadian  forces  was  given 
me,  without  my  solicitation.  Captain  William  Mar- 
tin was  a very  pleasant  gentleman,  and  very  desir- 
ous of  earning  his  pay  from  the  college.  I had  to 
find  something  for  him  to  do.  I gave  him  one-third 
of  the  time  alloted  for  the  practical  instruction  of 
cadets,  but  to  do  so  really  hampered  me  in  my  effort 
to  comply  with  the  requirements  of  G.  0.  49.  I had 
him  give  instruction  in  recent  changes  in  trench  war- 
fare, as  illustrated  on  the  battlefields  of  France  where 
the  Captain  had  had  opportunity  to  see  for  himself. 
He  also  gave  lectures  on  other  subjects,  in  order  to 
utilize  the  time  allowed  him. 

That  Canadian  from  Winnipeg  found  our  Septem- 
ber and  October  weather  almost  unendurable  because 
of  the  heat,  but  I cautioned  him  to  wait  a while  and 
we  would  perhaps  give  him  a few  changes  in  the 
weather  which  he  might  find  disagreeable  on  account 
of  the  cold.  He  laughed  at  the  idea,  but  I had  the 
laugh  on  him  several  times  before  the  winter  was 
over.  Capt.  Martin  was  not  the  first  man  from  the 
far  north  to  complain  of  the  cold  weather  of  southern 
Texas.  He  left  us  in  the  spring,  to  go  back  and  rejoin 
his  comrades  in  northern  France. 

Capt.  Martin’s  request  for  instruction  of  the  more 
advanced  cadets  deprived  me  of  the  best  instructors 
for  the  big  class  of  new  cadets,  but  I did  the  best 
possible  under  the  circumstances,  and  systematically 
progressive  instruction  was  given,  in  which  I took  the 
part  of  every  instructor  from  corporal  to  colonel.  I 
found  it  to  be  necessary. 


550 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


I did  not  find  the  drill,  instruction  and  discipline 
of  the  cadets  as  good  as  I thought  they  should  have 
been,  especially  the  discipline.  I had  been  there 
before,  and  I remembered  how  I had  left  it. 

When  the  cadets  were  given  ten  days’  Christmas 
leave  I took  one  also,  and  went  to  spend  five  or  six 
days  at  the  ranch  of  my  friend  Hardie  Jefferies,  near 
Laredo.  His  ranch  is  off  the  railroad  some  15  miles, 
and  about  20  from  the  Rio  Grande.  Missing  some 
connection  along  the  road  I got  off  the  train  at  Webb 
a little  after  daybreak,  and  was  given  breakfast  by 
the  very  kind  station  agent,  and  while  waiting  for 
Mr.  Jefferies’  transportation  to  arrive  on  that  cold 
Christmas  morning,  some  fine  eggnog  followed  the 
breakfast.  That  was  the  real  old  time  Southern 
hospitality,  now  growing  very  rare  indeed. 

After  a while  the  buggy  came,  and  I went  out  to 
the  ranch  where  I knew  that  I would  not  find  my 
friend,  for  he  had  written  that  he  and  his  wife  would 
spend  the  holidays  at  Corpus  Cristi.  I was  told  that 
I could  run  the  ranch  and  the  Mexicans  there  to  suit 
myself,  during  the  absence  of  my  friends;  some  more 
fine  hospitality  which  I gratefully  appreciated. 

With  the  assistance  of  his  best  Mexican  to  show  me 
the  deer,  I killed  two,  also  some  ducks.  Mr.  Jefferies 
returned  the  night  before  I left,  and  I had  the  satis- 
faction of  showing  him  my  game,  which  I left  there  for 
him  and  his  people. 

I arrived  at  College  Station  on  New  Year’s  Eve. 
A day  or  two  after,  in  telling  some  cadets  of  my  good 
luck  I learned  that  one  of  them,  while  hunting  near 
his  home  on  the  Guadalupe  River  had  killed  two  deer 
at  one  shot  with  a rifle.  In  close  cedar  timber  he  had 
hurriedly  fired  at  a deer  which  he  saw  running,  and 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


551 


then  he  found  two  dead  deer,  one  of  which  he  had  not 
seen  when  firing.  It  reminded  me  of  my  killing  two 
turkeys  with  one  bullet  when  I saw  only  one,  during 
my  hunt  with  Col.  Shafter  on  the  Nueces  River  in 
1878.  Such  accidents  sometimes  happen,  but  they 
are  very  rare. 

Late  in  January  I was  pleased  to  have  my  old  time 
comrade  from  the  Philippines,  J.  W.  F.  McManus, 
join  me  as  assistant.  Like  myself,  he  was  on  the 
retired  list.  I could  give  him  duties  which  Capt. 
Martin  was  not  qualified  to  perform,  and  it  greatly 
relieved  me  to  do  so.  I had  been  having  too  much 
to  do.  I was  now  sure  that  the  college  would  be  re- 
tained in  the  “distinguished”  class,  and  I so  divided 
my  duties  as  to  make  it  much  easier  for  me.  The 
course  described  by  G.  O.  49  called  for  lots  of  work. 

In  the  fall  of  1917  the  War  Department  had  insti- 
tuted a series  of  training  camps  for  the  preparation 
of  officers  from  civil  life  and  from  colleges,  and  the 
college  was  given  a quota  of  40,  which  it  was  easy  to 
find  material  for  among  the  graduates  and  old  cadets. 
Early  in  May,  1918,  another  quota  was  as  easily  filled 
for  another  such  training  camp,  and  in  addition  170 
were  sent  to  attend  a training  camp  at  Fort  Sheri- 
dan, Ills.,  which  was  lengthened  so  as  to  finally  be- 
come another  training  camp  for  officers.  Many  who 
attended  that  camp  obtained  commissions  at  the  close 
of  it. 

About  May  19,  1918,  I had  to  go  to  Houston  to  be 
operated  on.  It  was  my  third  operation  since  retire- 
ment, all  caused  by  imperfect  digestion.  When  one’s 
strength  begins  to  fail  because  of  old  age,  nature 
never  fails  to  hit  again,  and  then  again,  gradually 
pulling  one  down.  While  being  treated  in  St.  Joseph’s 


552 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Infirmary  an  order  came  directing  me  to  go  and  attend 
the  training  camp  at  Fort  Sheridan. 

After  about  three  weeks  in  the  hospital  I returned 
to  the  college.  My  wife  was  with  me  in  Houston.  We 
quickly  made  our  preparations  for  travel  and  started 
for  Chicago  where  I reported  to  the  Department 
Commander,  Major  General  T.  H.  Barry,  my  class- 
mate whom  I had  not  seen  for  several  years.  On  his 
recommendation  I had  been  detailed  as  an  “observer,” 
with  special  duty  to  observe  the  cadets  from  the  A.  & 
M.  College  of  Texas.  I found  the  camp  commanded  by 
Major  Edward  McCaskey,  a retired  infantry  officer 
whom  I had  served  with  in  the  Philippines  when  he 
was  regimental  quartermaster  of  the  21st  Infantry 
at  Calamba. 

McCaskey  had  worked  out  and  was  putting  into 
execution  a very  comprehensive  and  progressive  pro- 
gram of  instruction  for  the  energetic  and  enthusiastic 
collection  of  about  2500  cadets  from  all  over  the  coun- 
try east  of  the  Mississippi.  I accompanied  him  every 
day  in  an  auto,  along  the  many  roads  of  that  vicinity, 
inspecting  the  performance  of  cadets  at  field  problems 
under  the  instruction  of  Army  officers.  The  work  was 
well  done.  McCaskey’s  assistants  were,  some  of  them, 
retired  officers,  and  some  were  recent  graduates  from 
other  training  camps.  One  officer  was  from  the  battle- 
fields of  France,  and  could  therefore  give  up-to-date 
instruction  in  trench  warfare,  and  he  did  it. 

Modern  trenches  were  there  in  abundance,  the  work 
of  students  of  former  training  camps  at  that  same 
place.  Every  day  a lady  chauffeur  from  one  of  the 
clubs  of  Chicago,  reported  to  McCaskey  for  duty,  and 
the  intimate  knowledge  of  the  network  of  roads  shown 
by  all  those  uniformed  lady  chauffeurs  was  wonderful. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


553 


The  students  of  that  training  camp  were  seniors  and 
juniors  and  some  other  old  cadets  from  various  schools 
where  military  instruction  had  been  given,  and  they 
showed  an  excellent  spirit  and  desire  to  learn.  Many 
of  them  were  given  commissions  at  the  end  of  the 
prolonged  encampment. 

At  the  end  of  July,  my  duties  at  the  training  camp 
being  completed,  my  wife  and  I went  on  up  to  Eagle 
River,  Wisconsin,  and  stopped  at  Everett’s,  the  re- 
sort I have  previously  alluded  to,  and  we  spent  three 
weeks  there.  I found  many  fishermen  that  I could 
not  compete  with,  but  I enjoyed  the  sport  as  much 
as  any. 

Everett’s  Resort  is  located  on  both  Catfish  and 
Cranberry  Lakes,  which  were  connected  by  a river 
making  a horseshoe  bend  only  about  200  yards  across 
at  the  narrowest  part,  right  at  the  resort.  The  other 
lakes  in  the  immediate  vicinity  were  Meta,  Helen,  Big 
Bass,  Seven  mile,  Carpenter,  Scattering  Rice  and 
some  small  ones  that  I don’t  know  the  names  of.  In 
one  day’s  walk  a man  could  visit  all  of  them. 

There  were  25  to  50  guests  at  our  resort,  scattered 
among  the  many  cottages  along  the  shores  of  both 
lakes.  Those  guests  ate  their  meals  at  the  main  lodge 
where  a nice  table  was  set.  Most  of  the  lakes  were 
connected  and  drained  by  Eagle  River,  and  the  others 
were  drained  by  some  bold  stream  which  finally 
reached  the  Wisconsin  River. 

I hired  a row  boat  for  the  entire  time  of  our  stay, 
and  I used  some  boat  every  day,  either  with  or  without 
a guide.  Several  times  my  wife  went  with  us.  To 
hire  a guide  and  an  additional  boat  often,  was  quite 
expensive,  but  there  was  no  other  way  to  do  it.  The 
guide  did  almost  everything,  including  catching  most 


554 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


of  the  fish,  and  he  could  cook  the  best  fish  lunch  that 
I ever  tasted. 

I had  never  used  a reel  before,  nor  had  I ever  cast  a 
line  as  it  is  done  today,  therefore  I was  much  behind 
the  others  in  fishing  efficiency,  but  I did  my  best 
and  made  good  progress  during  our  stay  at  Everett’s 
Resort.  I preferred  pike,  liking  that  fish’s  style  of 
fighting  best,  also  his  meat  when  cooked.  Like  many 
another  fisherman  I allowed  my  biggest  fish  to  get 
away.  I did  not  know  enough  to  play  the  fish  and  tire 
him  out,  but,  instead,  I was  in  a hurry  and  tried  to 
pull  him  in  quickly.  Of  course  the  line  broke  as  my 
big  pike  went  straight  for  the  bottom  of  the  lake.  The 
bass  did  not  act  like  that  but  would,  instead,  come  up 
to  the  top  when  well  hooked.  Only  one  muscalonge 
was  caught  by  any  one  at  our  resort,  and  it  was  not  a 
large  one,  weighing  only  about  16  pounds. 

I started  back  to  the  college  much  sooner  than  I 
wished,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  up  the  work  of 
selecting  candidates  for  the  series  of  continuous 
training  camps  ordered  by  the  War  Department.  We 
stopped  in  Chicago  several  days  to  continue  and 
finish  our  treatment  by  the  eye  specialist  who  had 
been  so  successful  with  me  in  1907.  We  had  promptly 
gone  to  him  on  our  first  arrival  in  Chicago,  and  now, 
after  more  than  ample  opportunity  to  study  our  eyes, 
the  former  successful  oculist  failed  utterly,  as  so 
many  had  done  before  him. 

After  leaving  Chicago  we  stopped  at  Louisville, 
Ky.,  for  a few  hours,  to  see  Carey  who  was  then  a 
major  of  the  field  artillery  in  the  National  Army,  and 
one  of  the  instructors  at  Camp  Zachary  Taylor,  where 
was  located  a field  artillery  training  camp.  I went 
out  to  the  camp  to  see  him,  and  then  he  came  to  see  us 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


555 


at  the  hotel  in  Louisville.  The  boy  was  doing  splen- 
didly, feeling  sure  of  soon  going  over  to  France. 

We  then  travelled  on  homeward,  via  Memphis  and 
Little  Rock,  and  on  arriving  at  College  Station  I found 
lots  of  work  waiting  for  me,  as  I had  expected.  For  a 
month  I worked  hard  at  the  College,  although  I knew 
that  I had  been  relieved  from  duty  there  and  ordered 
to  duty  with  Rice  Institute,  Houston,  Texas,  begin- 
ning with  September  1st,  1918. 

On  the  last  of  August,  1918,  I went  to  Houston, 
Texas,  and  reported  for  duty  with  Rice  Institute, 
where  the  Students  Army  Training  Corps  was  to  be 
organized.  My  wife  had  preceded  me  several  days 
and  had  engaged  board  and  lodging.  We  boarded  at 
one  place  and  lodged  across  the  street,  an  arrange- 
ment which  proved  to  be  very  satisfactory.  Our 
meals  were  specially  good.  However,  I labored  under 
the  disadvantage  of  living  nearly  two  miles  from  my 
place  of  duty,  and  that  means  a great  deal  at  a place 
where  anything  is  to  be  military. 

I found  the  President  of  Rice  Institute  very  willing 
to  have  me  take  charge  of  practically  everything 
military,  to  my  great  satisfaction.  There  had  been 
previously  very  little  military  there,  but  I expected 
lots  of  assistance  from  the  20  or  30  students  who  had 
attended  that  training  camp  at  Fort  Sheridan.  I 
found  no  such  help  as  I had  at  the  A.  & M.  College, 
and  I had  to  build  up,  practically  from  the  bottom, 
and  when  school  began  about  the  18th  of  September,  I 
had  more  than  I could  do  efficiently. 

I had  to  immediately  begin  the  selection  of  training 
camp  candidates  from  all  kinds  of  applicants,  both 
student  and  civilian,  and  at  first  I had  no  help  what- 
ever. That  part  of  my  duty,  really  separate  from 


556 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


giving  military  instruction  at  the  institution,  occupied 
a great  part  of  my  time  during  my  entire  stay  at  Rice 
Institute,  just  as  it  had  done  at  the  A.  & M.  College. 
But  it  was  exceedingly  important  to  find  material  to 
be  put  through  those  training  camps  upon  which  our 
Country  was  depending  so  much  for  junior  officers  in 
France. 

The  Students  Army  Training  Corps  was  the  Rice 
Institute  end  of  the  training  camp,  and  under  the 
orders  of  the  War  Department  it  was  to  be  completely 
organized  and  go  into  effect  on  October  1,  1918,  at 
that  and  about  500  other  schools  throughout  the 
country  where  military  instruction  was  being  given  by 
officers  of  the  Army. 

Quite  an  interestesting  ceremony  was  to  take  place 
at  the  same  time  at  all  those  colleges,  including  the 
reading  of  orders  from  the  War  Department  and  the 
swearing  allegiance  to  the  colors,  our  National  flag. 

During  the  last  two  weeks  of  September  seven 
assistants  reported  to  me,  all  graduates  from  training 
camps,  and  as  fast  as  they  came  I put  them  to  work 
getting  out  the  immense  amount  of  paper  work  con- 
nected with  physical  examination  and  induction  of  the 
students  of  Rice  Institute  into  the  S.  A.  T.  C. 

We  had  a civilian  physician  do  the  physical  exami- 
nation of  the  cadets,  and  by  some  oversight  a sufferer 
from  the  early  stages  of  leprosy  got  by  the  doctor’s 
examination  and  was  accepted  by  him  for  induction 
into  the  S.  A.  T.  C.  However,  the  poor  fellow's 
condition  was  discovered  soon  after,  and  induction 
prevented.  Poor  fellow!  Queer  oversight  of  the 
doctor! 

While  we  were  all  very  busy  with  our  many  duties, 
and  were  having  all  that  we  could  do,  the  “Spanish 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


557 


Influenza”  suddenly  appeared  in  the  student  body, 
and  increased  very  fast.  Evidently  our  civilian  doc- 
tor had  more  than  he  could  handle  without  lots  of 
help,  so  I telegraphed  promptly  to  the  Department 
Commander  a short  but  full  description  of  conditions, 
and  in  less  than  24  hours  help  began  to  arrive  from 
Fort  Sam  Houston.  In  a day  or  two  we  had  two 
Army  surgeons,  eight  enlisted  men  of  the  Hospital 
Corps  and  four  female  nurses.  Practically  all  of  one 
big  dormitory  was  turned  into  a hospital  and  was 
handled  as  such,  being  divided  into  the  various  wards 
showing  progress  of  cases.  Thanks  to  the  good  han- 
dling of  about  two  hundred  cases  of  the  “flu”  we  lost 
only  two  cadets.  One  case  was  a sick  cadet  who  went 
into  a local  hospital  before  the  arrival  of  the  surgeon, 
and  the  other  was  a returned  convalescent  who  came 
back  to  duty  too  soon,  had  a relapse  and  died  after  the 
departure  of  the  surgeon  and  his  assistants.  I am 
sure  the  second  case  would  not  have  been  lost  if  the 
Army  surgeon  had  still  been  with  us. 

Where  we  lodged  there  were  two  cases  of  sick  with 
the  “flu”  out  of  the  six  people  in  the  house.  No  one 
died.  My  wife  and  I did  not  have  the  epidemic. 

Notwithstanding  our  surgeon’s  good  handling  of  the 
epidemic  all  academic  work  was  suspended  for  more 
than  two  weeks,  including  Christmas  Holidays,  the 
cadets  reporting  back  for  duty,  January  2,  1919. 

Previous  to  that  date  the  Armistice  had  been  signed 
on  November  10,  1918,  to  go  into  effect  the  next  day, 
and  the  bottom  dropped  out  of  all  interest  in  military 
matters.  The  “continuous  training  camps”  lost 
importance  in  the  eyes  of  previously  impatient  candi- 
dates for  commissions  as  army  officers,  and  by  the 
time  the  long  Christmas  leave  began,  my  work  in 


558 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


connection  with  such  training  camps  had  greatly 
decreased.  For  weeks  the  civilian  applicants  for 
those  camps  had  taken  up  more  than  half  my  time, 
and  the  Institute  was  paying  me  $100  per  month  for 
work  with  cadets. 

I had  organized  the  Students  Army  Training  Corps 
into  companies  and  had  assigned  some  of  my  young 
assistants  to  duty  with  them,  also  one  to  duty  as 
supply  officer  and  another  as  personnel  adjutant.  The 
drill  was  turned  over  to  those  graduates  from  training 
camps,  and  they  were  eager  and  willing  to  show  what 
they  had  learned.  The  selection  of  candidates  for 
officers’  training  camps  from  cadets  and  from  civilian 
applicants  was  the  most  important  work  I performed 
during  my  college  detail. 

The  War  Department  had  found  an  excellent 
method  of  quickly  selecting  good  material  for  officers, 
also  an  excellent  way  to  quickly  beat  into  new  men 
sufficient  military  knowledge  to  justify  giving  them 
commissions  in  the  National  Army.  I hope  that  all 
such  experience  will  be  still  further  improved  upon  the 
next  time. 

An  immense  amount  of  paper  work  was  connected 
with  the  selection  of  those  candidates  for  training 
camps,  besides  an  actual  examination  into  their 
educational  qualifications.  Many  papers  had  to  be 
prepared.  Voluminous  instructions  were  furnished 
from  a bureau  of  the  War  Department  relative  to  the 
S.  A.  T.  C.,  and  numerous  orders  were  issued  regarding 
the  training  camps.  Many  a time  I wished  for  even 
one  of  my  old  regular  assistants  at  the  A.  & M.  College 
to  help  me  out  with  details  they  were  familiar  with. 

When  the  Armistice  was  signed  some  of  the  candi- 
dates selected  by  me  had  completed  the  course  of 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


559 


training  camp  instruction,  some  were  then  attending 
such  camps,  and  others  were  waiting  their  turn  to  go 
next.  One  of  the  A.  & M.  College  selected  candidates 
commanded  his  company  the  last  ten  days  of  the 
Argonne  drive,  and  he  wrote  to  me  with  justly  proud 
feeling  because  of  that  fact.  The  youngster  was  one 
of  the  six  graduates  whom  I had  designated  as  having 
shown  especial  aptitude  for  the  military  service,  and 
he  thus  justified  my  selection  of  him. 

While  officer  candidates  were  still  being  selected 
for  attendance  at  training  camps,  orders  were  received 
about  December  1,  1918,  to  discontinue  such  work, 
and  it  was  done. 

Then  orders  came  to  demobilize  the  Students  Army 
Training  Corps,  and  muster  it  out  of  the  service  on 
December  15th. 

So  far  as  concerned  my  duties  with  the  cadets  of 
Rice  Institute,  they  were  ended  when  the  long  Christ- 
mas holiday  began,  about  December  20th.  I there- 
fore obtained  leave  of  absence  for  ten  days  and  again  I 
went  to  hunt  with  my  friends,  the  Jefferies,  near 
Laredo.  They  met  me  with  their  auto,  at  Webb,  and 
in  less  than  one  hour  we  were  at  their  nice  farm  and 
ranch.  Again  they  turned  over  to  me  everything 
there,  and  then  they  went  on  to  Corpus  Cristi  to  spend 
their  holidays  with  their  own  people,  leaving  me  to  do 
as  I pleased. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  my  arrival  I started 
out  to  hunt  ducks  on  the  big  water  tank  near  the 
house,  wearing  my  new  rubber  boots.  After  going 
around  the  tank  a couple  of  times  and  driving  away 
all  the  ducks  I followed  them  to  another  tank,  also  on 
Mr.  Jefferies’  land  and  about  two  and  a half  miles 
distant.  I discovered  after  arriving  there  that  new 


560 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


rubber  boots  are  not  good  to  walk  in,  blisters  having 
started  on  my  toes;  but  I finished  the  day  with  only 
one  foot  slightly  damaged.  That  night  I covered  the 
blistered  places  with  “new  skin,”  a splendid  patent 
preparation  for  such  an  injury.  By  frequent  change 
of  shoes  and  repeating  of  the  remedy  I managed  to 
complete  my  eight  days’  hunt  in  good  condition. 

Sometimes  I hunted  alone,  and  sometimes  I took 
with  me  Mr.  Jefferies’  best  Mexican.  On  account 
of  long  continued  drouth  for  several  years,  game  of  all 
kinds  had  become  very  scarce.  Rats,  rabbits  and 
rattlesnakes  had  disappeared  along  with  the  quail,  deer 
and  jabalina.  I saw  only  six  deer  during  my  hunt, 
and,  strange  to  say,  only  one  of  the  six  was  a female,  all 
the  others  being  large  bucks.  Jose  showed  me  the 
buck  to  shoot,  and  I did  my  part.  I killed  two  big 
bucks,  and  Mexican  workmen  killed  four  more,  two 
of  them  being  caught  only  a mile  or  so  from  the  ranch 
house.  The  well  mounted  head  of  one  of  my  bucks  is 
now  on  the  wall  in  our  dining  room,  along  with  two 
others. 

I returned  by  way  of  Laredo  and  reached  Houston 
on  New  Year’s  Eve,  much  refreshed  by  my  ten  days’ 
hard  work  hunting.  Although  my  work  had  eased  up 
greatly  because  of  the  muster  out  of  the  Rice  Institute 
Unit  of  the  Students  Army  Training  Corps,  also 
because  of  the  cessation  of  selecting  civilian  candidates 
for  officer  training  camps,  I still  had  much  to  do  in 
gathering  up  the  fragments  of  those  duties  and  wind- 
ing them  up  properly,  and  my  hard  work  in  hunting 
had  rested  my  eyes  and  brain. 

So  now  I waited  for  orders  relieving  me  and  ordering 
me  elsewhere,  and  I wondered  how  so  many  mistakes 
could  possibly  have  been  made  in  the  muster  out 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


561 


papers  which  my  young  assistants  had  prepared. 
Those  errors  had  been  discovered  in  Washington 
already,  and  I was  trying  to  correct  some  of  them  from 
the  records  in  my  office. 

II  had  more  time  to  look  around  me,  and  to  size  up 
my  surroundings.  Houston  has  proved  to  be  a real 
seaport,  and  it  will  receive  a great  increase  of  popu- 
lation on  that  account.  Buffalo  Bayou  has  been 
deepened  and  widened,  and  wharf  facilities  are  being 
prepared  for  the  handling  of  the  big  business  which  the 
sea  will  add  to  already  great  prosperity.  Down  the 
bayou  about  25  miles  is  the  old  battlefield  of  San 
Jacinto,  and  from  there  on  it  is  good  hunting  and 
fishing,  and  there  are  still  a few  prairie  chickens  left  on 
those  big  prairies.  Few  places  in  the  United  States 
have  better  fish  and  oysters  than  Houston  has. 
Altogether,  Houston  offers  unusual  advantages  to  the 
sportsman  and  outdoor  pleasure  seeker.  ’Tis  a close 
race  between  San  Antonio,  Dallas  and  Houston  for 
first  place  in  population,  and  I now  believe  that  the 
growing  shipping  interests  will  tip  the  scales  in  favor 
of  Houston. 

On  February  11,  1919,  we  returned  to  San  Antonio 
and  to  our  own  home,  in  compliance  with  orders 
directing  me  to  proceed  to  my  home  and  report  by 
telegraph  to  Washington. 

Thus  ended  my  attempt  to  resume  my  career  as  a 
soldier.  I had  in  the  beginning  strong  hope  of  seeing 
field  service  in  France,  and  of  there  earning  the 
advancement  in  rank  which  I still  thought  was  in  my 
reach.  I thought  that  my  services  would  be  worth 
more  in  the  field  than  anywhere  else,  just  as  in  the 
past,  and  I still  think  so. 

I did  good  work  in  our  great  “World  War”  but, 


562 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


considering  what  I had  been  in  the  past,  that  which  I 
actually  accomplished  made  small  addition  to  my 
fine  record.  I don’t  feel  very  proud  of  it.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  I had  been  forgotten,  and  was  considered 
very  much  of  a “has  been,”  while  I thought  that  I was 
still  fit  for  much  better  work  than  was  given  me  to  do. 
Nature  gave  me  a very  strong  constitution,  which 
more  than  eight  years  of  tropical  service  has  not  been 
able  to  entirely  ruin,  as  proven  by  what  I have  actu- 
ally done  since  my  discovery  of  a stomach  specialist 
among  civilian  doctors  in  1907. 

I have  often  tried  to  figure  out  why  I failed  to 
attain  higher  rank  than  colonel,  which  grade  is  given 
to  any  officer  who  will  behave  well  enough  and  pass 
good  enough  examinations,  having  health  good 
enough  to  enable  him  to  do  so.  During  all  my 
service  my  habits  were  of  the  best,  my  attention  to 
duty  much  above  the  average,  also  my  ability  to 
perform  whatever  was  assigned  me  to  do.  I was 
perfectly  reliable,  and  was  much  trusted  by  my 
commanding  officers.  I could  see  all  that,  also  that 
my  brother  officers  expected  me  to  win  the  coveted 
star,  which  is  the  first  promotion  given  by  selection. 
I had  no  doubt  of  it,  myself,  until  only  a year  or  so 
of  active  duty  remained  to  me. 

While  prompt  and  decided  in  meeting  the  un- 
expected, my  disposition  has  been  rather  cautious, 
and  it  is  possible  that  I have  been  weighed  in  the 
balance  and  found  wanting  under  the  old  time 
judgment: 

“ He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much. 

Or  his  desert  is  small. 

Who  dares  not  put  it  to  the  touch, 

To  win  or  lose  it  all.” 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


563 


Undoubtedly  I must  have  failed  to  properly  take 
advantage  of  some  of  the  opportunities  offered  me. 
Few  opportunities  are  so  labelled  in  front  as  to  be 
easily  recognized  as  such;  the  great  majority  of  them 
show  their  true  character  only  as  they  disappear  in  the 
distance,  too  late  to  be  taken  advantage  of.  I can 
remember  several  occasions  when  I should  have 
acted  differently;  few  men  cannot  do  that;  it  is  easy 
to  do.  On  several  occasions  I have  done  what  I 
thought  was  right,  instead  of  being  politic,  and  I did 
not  have  time  on  the  active  list  to  live  down  probable 
opposition;  in  fact  I was  born  just  ten  years  too  soon, 
as  I used  to  say  to  my  comrades  of  the  24th  Infantry. 

I have  seen  many  changes  in  almost  everything 
pertaining  to  our  Army.  I have  complied  with 
various  orders  prescribing  changes  in  our  equipment, 
uniform  and  weapons.  Our  drill  regulations  have 
been  changed  about  every  ten  years,  conforming  to 
Napoleon’s  ideas  on  that  subject.  Our  fire  arms  have 
been  greatly  improved,  also  our  means  of  transpor- 
tation. Our  infantry  has  come  into  its  own,  also  the 
field  artillery.  The  machine  gun  is  almost  as  power- 
ful on  the  field  of  battle  as  was  described  by  the  gifted 
C.  A.  L.  Totten  many  years  ago,  when  he  prophesied 
our  coming  struggle  with  “The  Yellow  Peril.”  The 
tank  has  made  good,  and,  despite  our  horror  of  the  use 
of  gas  in  battle,  we  have  a “Chemical  Warfare  Serv- 
ice” to  keep  us  even  with  the  other  great  nations. 
In  trench  warfare  in  France  we  used  shotguns,  especi- 
ally in  night  work,  and  I patted  myself  on  the  back 
when  I first  read  of  that;  I believed  in  such  use  so 
strongly.  Our  Air  Service  is  wonderful,  though  still 
behind  that  of  some  other  nations,  in  my  opinion,  also 
our  development  of  the  submarine. 


564 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


We  now  have  dentistry  and  sanitation  added  to  the 
already  very  important  duties  of  the  Medical  Depart- 
ment, and  within  that  department  there  has  been 
much  progress,  especially  since  the  beginning  of  the 
great  war.  Specialists  from  civil  life  have  been  of 
great  benefit  to  the  military  service,  during  their  stay 
with  us,  and  those  that  continue  in  the  regular  Army 
after  the  war  will  have  opportunity  to  make  their 
improvements  permanent. 

In  giving  the  Medical  Department  so  much  admin- 
istrative and  sanitation  work  have  we  not  made  it 
next  to  impossible  to  develop  real  experts  among  our 
regular  surgeons?  In  civil  life  most  of  the  best  sur- 
geons are  as  old  as  those  of  our  service  who  have 
practically  ceased  the  practice  of  medicine  and  sur- 
gery for  administrative  duties  and  sanitation.  I may 
be  in  error,  but  it  looks  that  way  to  me.  It  seems  to 
me  that  our  surgeons  stop  all  real  work  as  surgeons 
and  physicians  just  at  the  time  when  they  have  become 
most  valuable  as  such. 

I would  recommend  the  study  and  duty  of  sani- 
tation by  line  officers,  thus  relieving  our  surgeons  of 
much  of  that  sort  of  work.  Study  at  West  Point 
and  in  our  service  schools  of  the  latest  text  books  on 
Sanitation  would,  I believe,  relieve  the  situation  to  a 
great  extent,  and  thus  give  our  embryo  experts  time 
and  opportunity  to  become  great  in  their  particular 
lines. 

We  have  made  many  attempts  to  simplify  and  lessen 
the  paper  work  in  the  Army,  and  always  with  the 
same  result.  Just  as  true  now,  is  that  statement  of 
the  Board  of  Officers  about  1876,  “The  paper  work  in 
our  Army  is  a great  and  growing  evil,”  or  words  to 
that  effect.  All  manner  of  records  have  become  more 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


565 


complicated  and  numerous,  with  no  hope  of  relief  in 
sight. 

In  the  use  of  the  “selective  draft,”  instead  of  the 
old  volunteer  system,  during  the  war  with  Germany, 
we  made  a great  leap  in  the  right  direction,  and  I 
believe  that  we  will  make  a big  mistake  if  we  do  not 
cling  to  the  idea  and  practice  of  universal  liability 
to  military  service  at  all  times,  and  not  limit  it  to 
actual  war  time. 

The  great  war  taught  even  the  dullest  of  us  the 
value  of  the  lesson,  and  we  should  not  forget  it  as  soon 
as  the  war  clouds  begin  to  disappear.  During  the 
war  our  people  took  kindly  to  that  method  of  raising 
an  army,  in  the  belief  that  all  were  being  treated  alike, 
and  the  big  majority  took  the  right  view  that  it  was 
only  our  duty  to  our  Country  to  serve  her  on  the 
battle  field  in  time  of  emergency.  Our  friends,  the 
Allies,  held  the  Germans  off  during  the  long  time 
that  we  absolutely  needed  for  preparations.  The 
result  saved  us  from  a separate  conquest  by  Germany 
a year  or  two  later. 

No  man  of  any  intelligence  can  read  the  daily  papers 
without  being  convinced  of  coming  trouble  between 
capital  and  labor,  of  such  a character  as  to  cause  the 
Government  to  take  a hand  in  it  on  the  side  of  capital, 
in  order  to  save  the  Country  from  a disaster  like  that 
now  enveloping  Germany,  and  which  has  already 
filled  Russia  with  chaos  and  misery  unutterable. 

Labor  has  a right  to  combine  to  the  extent  of  mak- 
ing known  its  wants  and  arguing  its  cause  intelligently, 
but  it  has  no  right  to  interfere  by  any  kind  of  force 
with  any  one  wishing  to  work,  or  with  capital’s  efforts 
to  proceed  with  business. 

When  labor  uses  violence  to  injure  in  any  way  the 


566 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


property  of  capital,  or  to  prevent  other  laborers  from 
working,  right  and  justice  require  the  intervention  of 
the  Government  with  all  its  army  and  navy  if  neces- 
sary, to  put  down  such  tyranny. 

No  tyranny  can  foe  so  intolerable  as  that  imposed 
by  an  ungoverned  and  ungovernable  mob,  and  that 
is  what  labor  becomes  whenever  it  gets  the  upper  hand. 
Our  own  limited  experiences  during  our  strikes,  and 
the  terrible  happenings  in  various  parts  of  Europe 
leave  no  doubt  on  the  subject.  It  is  easy  to  see  that 
it  is  the  purpose  of  Bolshevists  and  other  anarchists  to 
inflame  labor  to  the  point  of  perpetual  strike,  and  thus 
introduce  as  much  misery  as  possible,  knowing  that 
their  cause  and  their  purpose  prosper  best  in  misery 
and  chaos  and  bitter  recklessness.  We  will  be  lucky 
indeed  if  we  escape  the  “class  war”  which  Count  Leo 
Tolstoy  has  promised  us.  It  is  easier  to  see  such 
danger  approaching  than  it  will  be  to  avoid  it,  and 
after  it  has  arrived  there  will  be  nothing  left  to  combat 
it  but  force,  which  is  the  only  influence  that  can  cope 
with  such  a condition. 

The  most  exasperating  thing  about  it  is  the  fact 
that  the  advocates  of  reckless  socialism  and  anarchy 
almost  invariably  took  refuge  in  our  country  after 
finding  it  too  warm  in  the  land  of  their  birth.  We 
have  taken  the  serpent  to  our  breast,  and  it  is  biting  us. 

The  stand  taken  by  our  Government  to  prevent 
strikes  by  the  use  of  injunctions  by  competent  courts, 
and  the  recent  law  enacted  by  Congress  regulating  rail- 
roads, are  strong  steps  in  the  right  direction  and  they 
give  us  hope  for  other  similar  action  in  case  of  need. 

It  is  not  believed  that  the  cost  of  living  will  go  back 
to  conditions  that  existed  before  the  beginning  of  the 
“Great  World  War.”  It  is  hard  to  see  how  we  can 


IN  THE  YARD  OF  THE  ALAMO  — SPRING  OF  1920 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


567 


avoid  a great  deal  of  “race  suicide”  so  long  as  young 
men  find  it  so  difficult  to  support  themselves.  Even 
before  the  war  began  the  expenses  of  living  were  so 
great  that  multitudes  of  men  had  to  wait  till  middle 
age  before  being  able  to  accumulate  enough  to  justify 
them  in  asking  the  girls  of  their  choice  to  share  life 
with  them.  This  was  on  account  of  the  expensive 
habits  of  both  sexes,  but  during  my  lifetime  I have  not 
observed  the  expenses  of  living  become  any  less  except 
very  temporarily,  as  during  some  short  period  of 
general  prosperity. 

I do  not  look  for  many  articles  to  go  back  to  their 
ante  helium  prices,  and  the  high  cost  of  living  will 
continue  to  promote  “race  suicide.”  Race  suicide 
would  be  greatly  discouraged  by  the  strict  observ- 
ance of  just  laws  making  the  wife’s  amount  of  in- 
heritance of  her  dead  husband’s  property  depend 
upon  the  question  of  children;  the  failure  to  have 
any  child  allowing  the  widow  only  the  share  of 
brother,  or  sister.  In  this  connection  we  are  reminded 
of  another  prophecy  of  Tolstoy.  In  1910,  when  he 
saw  so  many  visions,  some  of  which  have  already  be- 
come history,  he  also  claimed  to  see  a “partnership  of 
the  sexes”  take  the  place  of  marriage.  Is  there  no 
suggestion  that  such  a partnership  may  be  practiced  a 
great  deal  before  the  lapse  of  20  years? 

Many  a woman,  and  many  a man,  too,  can  be 
found  cooking  the  daily  meals,  who  never  cooked 
before.  The  amount  necessary  to  pay  for  the  hire 
and  feed  of  a cook,  and  for  what  the  cook,  if  colored, 
carries  off  daily  in  her  bundle,  makes  for  many  people 
all  the  difference  in  the  world  between  poverty  and 
“easy  street.”  The  lack  of  that  amount  will  prevent 
many  a man  from  asking  a girl  to  marry  him. 


568 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Many  girls  are  now  earning  their  own  living,  and 
that  adds  to  their  independence,  and  it  does  not  add 
to  their  likelihood  of  marrying,  but  it  does  tend  to 
suggest  the  possibility  of  sex  partnerships,  like  those 
predicted  by  Tolstoy.  Such  partnerships  will  pro- 
mote race  suicide,  which  is  already  fast  increasing 
among  our  people  of  Anglo-Saxon  blood.  The  mean- 
ing of  such  a condition  is  evident  when  we  remember 
that  the  population  of  France  remained  almost  the 
same  for  nearly  50  years  while  that  of  Germany 
doubled  during  the  same  period,  thus  making  a single 
handed  struggle  between  the  two  nations  out  of  the 
question.  The  same  question  may  some  day  confront 
us.  The  Japanese  increase  fast  in  population,  also  the 
American  Negroes. 

The  Constitution  has  been  amended  so  as  to  grant 
the  right  of  suffrage  to  our  women.  For  many  years 
that  has  been  the  goal  for  which  some  women  have 
agitated  the  world.  They  now  have  the  right  of 
suffrage,  but  their  unrest  does  not  seem  any  the  less. 

It  is  not  believed  that  woman’s  entry  into  the  field 
of  politics  will  have  any  marked  influence  on  politics, 
which  will  continue  as  crooked  a game  as  ever  and 
just  as  dirty. 

Woman’s  share  in  politics  may  tend  to  increase 
“race  suicide,’’  for  she  will,  if  interested  in  politics, 
have  less  time  to  devote  to  household  duties.  Her 
position  has  not  been  elevated  by  the  gift  of  the  right 
of  suffrage.  It  looks  more  like  coming  down  to  man’s 
level,  and  playing  with  things  that  belong  to  the 
sphere  of  man. 

It  is  believed  that  the  single  woman  representative 
in  Congress  that  7th  of  April,  1917,  was  typical  of  her 
sex  in  not  being  able  to  face  war  with  Germany. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


569 


She  was  one  of  the  very  few  that  voted  against  war 
then,  and  such  will  always  be  the  case. 

I am  a Democrat  by  sympathy  with  all  local  and 
state  questions  in  the  South,  and  in  national  elections, 
too,  in  many  cases.  I do  not  understand  how  a white 
man  who  does  not  make  politics  his  profession  can  vote 
the  Republican  ticket  in  the  South.  This  is  a white 
man’s  country,  and  it  is  the  Democratic  party  which 
does  most  to  make  and  keep  it  so. 

I believe  that  the  floating  vote,  which  usually  sides 
with  the  Republican  Party,  and  is  called  “mugwump  ” 
when  it  does  not,  is  deserving  of  the  highest  consider- 
ation. Of  course  there  must  be  some  “mugwumps” 
in  the  Democratic  Party  also,  but  we  seldom  hear  of 
them.  Grover  Cleveland  and  Woodrow  Whlson  were 
elected  by  the  “mugwumps”  of  the  Republicans  who 
were  disgusted  with  conditions  which  were  growing 
worse.  When  united  the  Republican  Party  is  the 
stronger,  and,  until  their  “mugwumps”  feel  that 
the  Country  needs  a change  in  the  White  House 
because  of  increasing  graft  and  political  corruption 
the  President  and  Congress  will  be  oftenest  of  that 
party. 

I could  be  a “partisan”  in  politics  only  when  I am 
convinced  of  the  superiority  of  my  party,  its  platform 
and  principles.  Nevertheless,  I must  acknowledge 
that  only  partisans  accomplish  much  progress,  even  in 
politics. 

WTien  the  Socialist  vote  gets  strong  enough  to  put  a 
president  in  the  White  House  it  will  be  a sad  day  for 
our  Country.  I hope  I will  not  live  to  see  it.  I have 
lately  been  much  encouraged  by  the  attitude  of  Con- 
gress towards  the  labor  unions  and  the  “bolshevist” 
element  of  socialism.  We  may  be  able  to  stave  off 


570 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


indefinitely  the  danger  which  has  done  so  much  dam- 
age in  Europe. 

That  we  have  become  a great  nation  is  not  due  to 
the  manner  in  which  we  bring  up  our  children,  but 
rather  in  spite  of  the  lack  of  training  given  them  at 
any  stage  of  the  game.  It  seems  to  be  taken  for 
granted  that  the  child  must  be  allowed  to  do  as 
the  child  pleases,  from  start  to  finish,  no  matter  what 
the  little  fellow  may  wish  to  do.  It  seems  to  be  taken 
for  granted  that  the  infant’s  instinct,  or  intuition, 
must  be  correct,  and  that  it  must  not  be  balked.  Such 
a thing  as  systematic  training  of  a child  from  birth 
to  manhood,  or  womanhood,  seems  to  have  occurred 
to  very  few  parents,  and  those  few  who  attempt  such  a 
thing  are  looked  upon  as  heartless,  or  hard  hearted. 
As  a natural  result  of  the  lack  of  training  we  see  chil- 
dren indulging  in  all  manner  of  heedlessness,  from  the 
infant  in  arms  to  those  who  should  be  in  school. 

The  rest  of  the  family  seem  to  be  expected  to  give 
way  to,  and  humor  the  whim  of  the  year-old  child, 
no  matter  what  that  whim  may  be.  And  when 
the  boy  is  old  enough  to  begin  the  study  of  what 
should  be  his  profession,  no  person  in  the  family  seems 
to  have  the  slightest  idea  as  to  what  is  to  be  that 
profession.  The  parents  have  been  waiting  for  the 
boy  to  select  his  own  profession,  and  they  have  done 
nothing  to  ascertain  what  the  boy  seems  to  prefer,  or 
what  he  seems  to  have  special  qualifications  for. 
They  have,  apparently,  considered  it  no  business  of 
theirs.  The  result  is,  aimless  endeavors  by  the  young 
man  to  earn  a living  in  any  old  way.  Apparently, 
parents  are  willing  to  acknowledge  that  the  child,  no 
matter  what  age,  knows  better  than  they  do,  what  is 
best  for  their  child. 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


571 


That  has  not  been  my  idea,  and  I have  put  my  own 
idea  into  practice  in  bringing  up  my  children,  with  the 
result  that  my  conviction  is  stronger  than  ever  that 
American  parents  shamefully  neglect  the  training  that 
should  be  included  in  their  bringing  up  of  their  chil- 
dren. I believed  that,  as  the  father  of  my  boys,  I 
had  duties  that  I could  not  evade  or  transfer.  I also 
believed  that  I had  equal  rights  in  the  bringing  up 
and  training  of  my  own  children.  I tried  to  live  up  to 
my  ideas,  and  I have  never  regretted  it. 

Cato  the  Censor  is  said  to  have  considered  it  his 
most  solemn  and  loving  duty  to  be  present  at  the 
birth  of  his  child,  and  to  give  whatever  assistance  he 
could  to  the  mother  in  her  time  of  greatest  need.  It 
is  easy  for  any  one  to  support  the  old  Roman  in  his 
conviction,  and  the  man  that  cannot  do  something 
that  will  help  his  wife  at  that  time  must  be  a queer 
fellow,  and  lacking  in  something. 

But,  the  child  being  born,  and  the  mother  being 
cared  for  in  the  most  up  to  date  manner,  it  is  not  long 
before  the  father  begins  to  have  some  rights  and 
duties,  and  they  refer  to  the  bringing  up  and  training 
of  the  infant.  The  infant  knows  much  more  than  is 
generally  supposed,  even  by  parents,  and  this  knowl- 
edge is  used  daily  and  hourly  by  the  little  rascal  in 
making  the  parents,  especially  the  mother,  do  all 
sorts  of  unnecessary  things.  Some  of  those  things, 
like  making  the  mother  feed  him  all  through  the  night, 
rock  the  cradle,  etc,  soon  wear  out  both  mother  and 
father,  and  they  are  not  necessary  to  any  child. 

As  previously  described,  early  in  this  book,  I trained 
my  older  boy  to  go  to  sleep  without  being  rocked  when 
he  was  only  five  weeks  old,  and  it  required  only  four 
or  five  nights  to  accomplish  it.  And  when  he  was 


572 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


hardly  three  months  old  he  was  trained  not  to  make 
his  mother  get  up  to  feed  him  at  any  other  than  the 
hours  she  had  fixed,  and  when  I did  the  training  one 
night  that  little  baby  showed  plainly  that  he  under- 
stood perfectly  well  why  I spanked  him.  One 
spanking  was  enough. 

When  I have  seen  a child  strike,  or  kick  the  mother, 
or  flatly  refuse  to  obey  her  with  “I  won’t,”  my  hands 
have  itched  to  administer  the  kind  of  training  which 
that  child  needed  so  badly.  In  my  house  the  first 
sign  of  rebellion  was  not  followed  by  a second  one.  I 
insisted  particularly  upon  respect  and  obedience,  as 
much  to  the  mother  as  to  myself,  and  my  influence 
with  my  boys  was  enough  to  assist  satisfactorily  their 
naturally  good  dispositions  in  that  respect. 

The  games  and  toys  of  a child  should  be  selected 
with  reference  to  useful  instruction  in  something, 
and  then  the  little  fellow  should  be  assisted  and 
instructed.  In  that  manner  the  child  will  learn  a 
great  deal  that  will  be  of  immense  assistance  in  early 
schooling.  The  child’s  books  should  be  selected  with 
the  same  reference  to  the  future.  I wore  out  one  copy 
of  the  first  book  on  animal  history,  showing  the 
pictures  and  explaining  them,  and  telling  stories  about 
some  of  those  same  animals.  I took  my  boys  many 
times  to  see  the  game  markets  of  Salt  Lake  City, 
and  the  places  where  we  could  examine  mounted 
heads  and  pelts  of  various  animals,  and  while  doing 
so  I would  give  all  the  information  I could. 

The  little  fellows  must  play,  and  the  season  for  this 
and  that  game  takes  up  the  time,  and  they  should  be 
assisted  in  playing  lots  of  games.  If  the  parents  can 
afford  it,  the  various  implements  of  the  various  games 
should  be  furnished,  as  the  season  arrives  for  any 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


573 


particular  game.  All  manner  of  many  exercises 
should  be  taught  boys,  and  then  they  will  play  tennis, 
golf,  ball  and  other  games  with  such  pleasure  as  to  keep 
them  out  of  trouble  many  a time. 

All  the  time  the  parents  should  be  on  the  lookout 
for  every  sign  of  what  seems  to  be  the  natural  bent  of 
the  boy,  something  showing  what  he  would  do  best  at, 
or  something  that  he  shows  pleasure  in  doing.  When 
anything  shows  plainly  the  natural  bent  of  the  boy,  if 
it  is  not  bad,  instruction  should  be  given  him  which 
will  assist  to  develop  that  natural  bent,  or  talent,  and 
the  boy  gradually  brought  to  see  that  he  ought  to  do  so 
and  so  for  a living.  If  the  child  and  big  boy  never 
shows  any  decided  preference  for  anything,  or  skill  in 
doing  anything  other  than  what  the  parent  knows 
most  about,  then  the  parent  should  lead  the  child 
along  such  road.  In  such  manner  the  parent  will  play 
a leading  part  in  deciding  what  his  boy  should  do  for 
a living.  The  parent  should  not  balk  what  evidently 
is  the  natural  bent  of  the  boy,  if  that  bent  is  honorable 
and  in  any  way  advantageous,  but  that  question  will 
not  often  arise. 

A 15  years’  endowment  insurance  policy,  begun 
when  the  child  is  8 or  9 years  old,  will  give  the  means 
to  make  sure  that  the  grown  up  son  or  daughter  has 
something  upon  which  to  begin  life.  The  same 
method,  if  necessary,  may  be  followed  to  obtain  the 
necessary  funds  for  the  support  of  the  big  boy  or  girl 
off  at  school,  the  policy  maturing  in  time  to  provide 
the  funds. 

The  endowment  insurance  policy  should  be  made 
payable  to  the  parent,  and  the  proceeds  on  maturity 
should  be  applied  by  the  parent  in  assisting  the  grown 
up  child  at  marriage,  or  in  beginning  business. 


574 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


Economy  can  never  be  taught  except  by  the  need  of 
money,  and  without  economy,  no  amount  given  to  a 
young  man  who  has  never  experienced  such  need, 
will  accomplish  all  the  good  intended. 

Lincoln  said:  “Teach  economy.  That  is  the  first 

and  highest  virtue.  It  begins  with  saving  money.” 

Washington,  Jackson  and  McKinley  gave  advice 
along  similar  lines.  McKinley  mentions  the  child’s 
savings  bank  at  home  as  meaning  “more  for  the 
future  of  the  children  of  a family,  almost,  than  all  of 
the  advice  in  the  world.” 

The  foundation  stone  of  economy  is  self-denial,  the 
refraining  from  the  purchase  of  articles  which  one 
would  like  to  have  but  which  are  not  really  necessary 
for  one’s  welfare.  Any  fool  can  spend  all  the  money 
he  can  lay  hands  on,  but  it  requires  the  exercise  of 
brains  and  courage  to  continually  refrain  from  the 
purchase  of  things  not  absolutely  necessary. 

If  one  should  connect  the  need  of  economy  with  a 
sense  of  duty,  it  would  greatly  assist  one  in  saving  up 
against  “the  rainy  day”  which  comes  some  time  to 
most  of  us,  and  more  than  once  to  many  of  us.  Gen- 
eral R.  E.  Lee  said  in  a letter  to  one  of  his  sons: 
“Duty  is  the  sublimest  word  in  our  language,  etc.” 

A boy  should  not  be  quarrelsome,  but  it  will  help 
him  all  his  life  if,  in  the  right,  he  has  had  two  or  three 
good  fights.  Parents  should  repress  any  tendency 
towards  a quarrelsome  disposition,  and,  at  the  same 
time  as  of  equal  importance,  they  should  uphold  the 
son  whenever  in  the  right,  and,  if  necessary,  they 
should  persuade  him  to  withstand  manfully  all 
attempts  at  overbearing. 

I have  read  a great  deal,  especially  books  of  history. 
My  especial  admiration  has  never  left  the  old  time 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


575 


Spartans,  because  of  their  valor  in  battle,  and  brevity 
of  speech.  I take  off  my  hat  to  Leonidas  and  his 
band  at  Thermopylae.  They  could  not  leave  the 
pass  because  they  were  Spartans!  Being  Spartans 
they  must  die  there,  in  order  to  give  an  example  to  the 
rest  of  Greece!  The  only  equal  example  in  history 
was  given  in  1836,  here  at  the  Alamo,  by  Travis, 
Crockett,  Bowie,  Bonham  and  the  rest  of  that  im- 
mortal band  who  crossed  the  line  with  Travis  and  died 
with  him. 

I liked  the  Spartans  best  of  all  the  Greeks,  and  I 
liked  the  Greeks  better  than  the  Romans. 

Of  all  the  ancient  generals  Hannibal  has  been  my 
favorite,  but  I know  that  his  success  would  have  been  a 
terrible  disaster  to  the  world. 

The  more  I have  read  of  the  great  Julius  Caesar,  the 
more  I have  wondered  at  his  well  rounded  genius. 
Not  so  great  a general  as  Hannibal,  in  other  respects 
he  surpassed  him,  and  averaged  up  a trifle  ahead, 
the  most  wonderful  man  in  history.  But,  all  the 
same,  my  sympathies  have  always  been  with  Marcus 
Brutus,  who  killed  Caesar.  I honor  Brutus  because  of 
his  reason  for  killing  the  man  who  had  shown  him 
special  kindness. 

Our  own  George  Washington  looms  up  greater  with 
each  passing  year,  not  only  for  his  military  genius  but 
for  his  patriotism  and  broad  minded  wisdom. 

I was  born  in  the  South,  and  my  reverence  goes  out 
to  Robert  E.  Lee  as  it  does  to  no  other  man  in  history. 
His  character  has  had  no  equal,  and  it  is  well  described 
in  his  own  words,  “Duty  is  the  sublimest  word  in  our 
language.”  He  declined  the  highest  rank  that  could 
have  been  offered  him,  because  he  felt  that  he  could 
not  fight  his  own  state,  and  he  joined  what  he,  better 


576 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


than  any  other  man,  knew  to  be  a losing  cause,  because 
he  considered  that  to  be  his  duty.  As  a general,  and 
one  of  the  greatest,  he  accepted  responsibility  for 
failure  more  frankly  than  ever  was  done  before,  or 
since. 

Of  all  books  of  history  I like  best  Gibbon’s  “ Decline 
and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire.”  Of  poetry  I like 
best  the  noble  sentiments  and  pure  morality  of  Walter 
Scott’s  works.  For  the  same  reasons  I prefer  his 
novels.  Just  as  interesting  but  a shade  below  him  I 
place  some  of  Bulwer’s  novels,  like  “The  Last  of  the 
Barons”  and  “Harold.”  Historical  novels  please  me 
best. 

I think  that  no  other  book  written  by  man  contains 
as  much  wisdom  as  is  found  in  the  works  of  Shake- 
speare, and  I believe  that  he  wrote  his  own  books. 

Of  books  written  by  Americans  I like  best  those 
which  were  written  by  Washington  Irving,  Prescott, 
Motley,  Parkman,  Roosevelt,  and  Simonds,  historians. 
Among  the  novels  written  by  Americans  I have  found 
those  written  by  Cooper,  L.  Wallace,  and  W. 
Churchill  to  be  most  deserving  of  commendation. 

I hope  that  my  countrymen  will  wake  up  and  read 
carefully,  again  and  again,  Murdock’s  History  of  Ja- 
pan. It  is  the  best  yet  written  of  a remarkable  people 
that  now  lie  directly  across  our  path,  and  we  should 
know  all  about  them.  They  have  a history,  and  it 
is  well  worth  reading. 

While  the  Great  World  War  was  still  going  on  I read 
where  an  eminent  German  had  said,  in  substance,  as 
follows: 

“After  this  war  there  will  be  a new  line  up  of  the 
nations.  On  one  side  will  be  the  German  Empire, 
the  Dual  Monarchy,  Russia  and  Japan.  On  the 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


577 


other  side  will  be  France,  the  Anglo-Saxons  and  their 
friends.” 

God  forbid  that  such  a conflict  should  ever  take 
place!  The  odds  against  us  would  be  too  great. 

At  present  Russia  is  still  occupying  the  back  seat 
handed  her  during  the  great  war  when  she  went  all  to 
pieces,  but  that  great  nation  is  steadily  regaining  her 
strength  and  influence  and  the  time  will  come  when 
she  will  make  a tremendous  effort  to  regain  all  the 
territory  that  she  lost  in  a war  where  her  side  won, 
partly  at  her  expense. 

The  greater  part  of  Russia’s  trade  must  go  to  the 
Germans,  her  next  door  neighbors,  who  were  her  fellow 
sufferers  in  the  results  of  the  war,  and,  some  day  the 
Germans  will  say  to  Russia, 

“You  fought  against  us,  but  you  have  been  pun- 
ished by  your  allies  worse  than  we  have.  Why  not 
join  us,  and  let  us  each  take  back  all  that  we  lost  the 
last  time,  and  a little  more?  We’ll  get  Japan  to  help 
us,  paying  her  with  as  big  a slice  of  China  as  she 
wishes.  Those  of  the  Moslem  religion  will  also 
rejoice  in  an  opportunity  to  retake  all  the  territory 
taken  from  them  during  the  past  century.  Your 
being  our  ally  will  be  our  reason  to  see  that  your 
supplies  of  war  munitions  will  never  give  out,  as  they 
did  when  you  fought  against  us.  Come  on!” 

Who  can  say  with  confidence  that  Russia  will  listen 
unwillingly? 

Marshal  Foch  has  said  that  the  German  Great  Gen- 
eral Staff  suffered  from  rigidity,  lack  of  imagination, 
causing  such  headquarters  to  remain  at  Luxembourg 
during  the  first  great  drive  and  first  battle  of  the 
Marne,  and  making  it  impossible  for  the  great  army 
chiefs  to  keep  up  with  rapid  changes  in  the  series  of 


578 


A COLONEL  OF  INFANTRY 


battles  around  Paris.  They  had  made  their  plans 
and  things  simply  had  to  happen  just  as  they  had 
planned  in  their  superior  wisdom. 

That  rigidity,  the  settled  determination  of  the 
German  after  laborious  and  careful  working-out  of  all 
the  details  of  a plan,  is  a mighty  fine  peculiarity  for 
any  people  or  body  of  men  to  possess,  and  ten  to  one 
it  will  succeed.  Our  entry  into  the  war  was  the 
one  feature  of  it  which  the  plans  of  the  Germans 
were  not  able  to  provide  for.  Their  strategy,  up  to 
the  allied  appointment  of  Foch  to  the  supreme  com- 
mand, was  much  superior  to  that  of  the  allies,  who 
disregarded  the  first  and  greatest  principle,  which 
requires  unity  of  command  and  unity  of  action  by  all. 
The  allies  did  not  pull  together  till  Foch  was  made 
commander  of  all  their  armies. 

We  cannot  depend  upon  the  Germans  to  make  such 
a mistake  again. 

We  should  be  strong  and  healthy  as  a nation,  with 
nothing  eating  at  the  vitals  of  our  body  politic,  if  we 
expect  to  last  long  as  a great  people.  Any  reader  of 
history  must  doubt  the  future  of  the  United  States 
when  he  thinks  of  the  millions  of  people  already  here 
whom  we  cannot  assimilate,  or  make  one  with  our- 
selves in  blood,  brains  and  strength  of  character. 

We  have  already  taken  too  many  serpents  to  our 
breasts,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  even  the  strictest  sort  of 
an  Immigration  Bill  would  now  save  the  situation. 
However,  such  a precaution  and  remedy  is  indispen- 
sable, though  very  tardy  in  coming. 

This  is  the  Country  of  the  white  man  of  the  Nordic 
Race,  and  it  will  be  great  only  so  long  as  he  continues 
to  completely  dominate. 


^3 

•3^ 


\ 

V 

I 


I 

Vi 


3 


!yV 

% 


Ss- 

if 

V 

■* 


1 

K. 

•<b 

«b 

*4 

t 

> 

**s 

*\\ 

1 

<s^ 

X 

s 

<■ 

s 

*5 

S 

V 

V/ 

Vi 

s 

u> 

$ 

'fc 

t- 

■^i 

V 

0 

s 

5W 

v> 

Vi 

? 

5" 

$ 

i 

X 

i 

